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COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


By 

LAURA T. MEADE 

jluthor of * ’A Plucks Girl, ’ * etc. 





PHILADELPHIA 

GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 


' LISHARY of CONGRESS 
Two Coolcs Racelved 

AUG 26 \90f 

Cooynft^t Entry ^ 
CLASS A XXc.. No. 

nb&s^ 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1907 , by 
George W. Jacobs & Company 

Published August, iqon 


ft 

t 

••• 


All rights reserved 


Printed in U. S. A. 


TO ALL THOSE BRAVE MEN AND TRUE, WHO 
UNDERSTAND THE SACRED HEART 
OF A LITTLE CHILD 


L. T. Meade 




CONTENTS 


Dream Mothers 

CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

• 1 

Adolphe • 

CHAPTER II 

•••••• 

• 15 

Travelling Dust 

CHAPTER III 

. 22 

Early to Bed 

CHAPTER IV 

• 35 


CHAPTER V 


A Champagne Supper 


V 


53 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER VI 

Ditchwater . • • 


CHAPTER VII 

The Rose Garden . 


CHAPTER VIH 

Would he be Proud ? , . . 


CHAPTER IX 

The Girl in the Garden 


CHAPTER X 

The Doctor • 


CHAPTER XI 

Letter Number Eight 


CHAPTER XII 


PAGE 

r6i 


• Si 


• 94 


. Ill 


• . 124 


• . 131 


Her Master 


146 


CONTENTS vii 

PAGE 

CHAPTER XIII 

“ I HAVE Hurt Him,” thought Jerry • . . 162 

CHAPTER XIV 

Sedan Chairs , . • . • • 180 

CHAPTER XV 

Make-Believe ... .... 197 

CHAPTER XVI 

The Third Time of Asking . . • . . 208 

CHAPTER XVII 

“When the Cat’s Away” 221 

CHAPTER XVIII 

Jerry Boy’s Letter 229 

CHAPTER XIX 


Great Physician 


247 


VIU 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER XX 

“God Bless You, May” 

CHAPTER XXI 

The Rough Little Boy . 

CPIAPTER XXII 

My Colonel ..... 

CHAPTER XXIII 


Everything came Right 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


The Boy 

^ May I CALL YOU Adolphe ? ’ he said 

‘What IS in that box?’ asked the 
Colonel 

‘You AND I MUST LOOK AFTER HER 
together’ 

‘You IS so BEAUTIFUL, MOTHER ! ’ HE SAID 

‘Great Physician,’ began Jerry . . 


Frontispiece 
Facing page 12 


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50 


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166 


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234 









CHAPTER I 
Dream Mothers 

J ERRY sat in the corner of a first-class railway 
carriage. His was the sunny corner, and 
he felt slightly uncomfortable ; not for worlds 
would he show it. He was the sort of little 
boy who endured discomforts without fussing 
about them. He hated making a fuss : he 
called it unmanly. It was the dream of Jerry’s 
life to be manly ; his father had inculcated the 
principle into him when he was a mere baby. 

He was little more than a baby now, being 
about eight years old ; but he considered himself 
far removed from the region of babyhood. As to 
tears and complainings : men never shed tears nor 
complained. He was practically a man ; at any rate, 
he had the spirit of one. 

So he sat with aching back and much bodily 
discomfort, with a little round, curly head that 
would feel heavy, notwithstanding all his efforts 
not to notice it, and stared straight before him. 
He looked out at the landscape as much as he 


^ THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

could, but the trains flying swiftly by caused 
the landscape to have a “ dithery ” appearance, 
and Jerry turned his gaze to the other occu- 
pants of the carriage. 

There were five people besides himself in the 
carriage : there was a gouty old gentleman in the 
further corner who swore under his breath and 
kept the window tightly shut. He had the shady 
corner, and might, Jerry thought, have kept the 
window open. The gouty gentleman, between 
his nearly audible complaints, buried himself in 
the advertisement sheet of 7 he Times, Occasion- 
ally he marked an advertisement with a blue 
pencil which he held in his hand. The old gen- 
tleman’s head was bald, and he had a fringe of 
white hair which hung low over the nape of his 
neck. His eyes were small and sunken, his face 
fat. He wore glasses. 

Although he had the shady corner he looked 
very hot, and from time to time mopped himself 
with a silk handkerchief. The lady next to the 
gentleman was middle-aged, and was rather cross 
in expression. She had a small lap-dog, which 
snarled whenever it looked at Jerry. She fed 
the dog occasionally with biscuits. Otherwise, she 
devoted all her attention to a novel which she was 
reading. Jerry pronounced her in his own mind 
not a very nice sort of person. 

Opposite to him sat a young man who kicked 
Jerry’s crutch from time to time, and looked 
askance at the small boy with a mixture of pity 


DREAM MOTHERS 


3 


and amusement which infuriated Jerry, who did 
not want pity and did not care to be the butt 
of sarcasm. 

At his own side of the carriage were two people, 
a mother and daughter, who whispered together 
and occasionally looked kindly at the little boy. 
The daughter offered a sandwich to Jerry, which 
he accepted with a blush and a very prettily 
uttered ‘‘ Thank you.” The daughter took no 
further notice of him, but kept on whispering 
in a low tone to her mother, who was very fat and 
inclined to quarrel, answering every question in 
a snappy sort of voice. Jerry concluded that 
his fellow-travellers, even the lady who had 
offered him the sandwich, were very uninter- 
esting. He allowed his thoughts to fly past 
them. He became again absorbed in a specula- 
tion which had fascinated him for long weeks 
now. 

He began to think on the subject of mothers. 
In the course of his short life Jerry had known 
two people who went by that sacred name. One 
was Mrs. Cole, the old lady with whom he lived. 
She was very fat and very round, and very much 
given to hugging the little boy. Jerry cordially 
hated being hugged by Mrs. Cole. She used to 
take him in her arms each morning and each 
night and say, “ My dearie dear,” or “ My sweet 
pet little boy,” or occasionally she would vary 
these remarks by uttering the words, “ You will 
never get over your lameness, my sweet ; it is 


4 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

the will of God that you should be a cripple all 
your days,” or similar words with similar mean- 
ing. 

Of course Jerry was fond of Mrs. Cole. He 
was by nature a very affectionate child, and 
would have thought it wrong not to love one 
who was so good to him. But she depressed him, 
and ruffled his hair and gave him a choking 
sort of feeling when she strained him to her 
ample breast. 

Nevertheless she was a mother and she had 
sons of her own, and they were fond of her ; 
and she had a married daughter, who grumbled 
a good deal when she came to see her, but never- 
theless asked her advice on all occasions. 

Yes, Mrs. Cole was a marvellous being — a 
mother, and, in consequence, Jerry treated her 
with the deepest respect and — ^yes — affection. 
If he had not been such a manly boy, he might 
have even cried a little this morning when he 
parted from Mrs. Cole. Mrs. Cole herself sobbed 
and moaned over him, and called him her pre- 
cious precious,” and her ‘‘ sweetest darling dear,” 
and made him promise that in any distress of 
mind or body he would write to his own “ Mammy 
Cole,” who would fly to his rescue at the most 
enormous personal inconvenience. 

He had answered in his quiet, gentlemanly 
way that he would never forget Mrs. Cole and 
would, as a matter of course, write to her. 

The other mother whom he thought of on his 


DREAM MOTHERS 


S 

rapid journey to town was a certain Mrs. Fitz- 
gerald, who lived in a grand house not far from 
Mrs. Cole’s farm, and who occasionally sent her 
pony carriage to fetch Jerry to pay her a visit. 

Jerry’s real name was Fitzgerald Ramsey and 
Mrs. Fitzgerald told him from time to time that 
he was a distant cousin of hers, and for that 
reason alone she must always take a deep interest 
in him. She was a very cultivated, charming 
woman, and she invariably led Jerry, when he 
went to see her, into a new world — an enchanted 
world. She talked of Romance, she opened the 
gates of Imagination ; she poured into the boy’s 
receptive ears marvellous stories of fairyland 
and fairy gifts. She related to him the adven- 
tures of King Arthur’s knights, and expatiated 
on the virtues of Shakespeare’s heroes. She 
talked also of the worthy men of old, who are 
described so graphically in the Book of all Books, 
and Jerry listened with rapture, a kindling light 
in his grey eyes, a flush of pleasure on his little 
sallow cheeks. 

She was a mother, Mrs. Fitzgerald was ; but 
in one sense she was a sad sort of mother, for 
her only son had died. That was one reason 
why she was so fond of Jerry, because she said 
that he reminded her of her boy who had fallen 
in the glories of war, fighting for his country 
in a distant part of the world. It was very seldom 
that Mrs. Fitzgerald spoke of her great, her 
irreparable loss. But she had said a good deal 


6 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

on the subject the night before Jerry travelled 
up to London to meet his real mother. He had 
never, as far as he could remember, seen his 
mother. Of course, when he was a wee baby, 
he must have seen her, but he had no conscious- 
ness of having looked into her eyes, or heard her 
voice. After his birth she was ill, and he was 
taken away from her, and then she remained on 
in India enjoying herself in the hill country, 
while Jerry grew up at Mrs. Cole’s. 

Jerry was very delicate for a long time, and 
the doctors feared he could not live. But now 
he was better, and there were even hopes that, 
notwithstanding Mrs. Cole’s propher.y, he might 
outgrow his lameness. 

Jerry’s mother, up to the present, had only 
been a dream mother to him. But how precious 
a dream mother can be to a lonely, imaginative 
child, it is difficult to estimate. To little Fitz- 
gerald Ramsey she was his whole world. He 
turned from the thought of Mrs. Cole and 
Mrs. Fitzgerald and dwelt with rapture now on 
the reflection that he was going to meet *his 
own, own mother — his dream mother — at long 
last ! 

His father was dead. He had died six months 
ago. Jerry was wearing black for him still. 
Jerry never liked to think about his father’s 
death. He fully believed him to be alive in some 
other world. He hated wearing black for him, 
for he was under the firm impression that his 


DREAM MOTHERS 


7 

father was much happier in his present state 
than he had been when on earth. 

Amongst Jerry’s most prized possessions were 
certain letters from his father. Major Ramsey had 
written constantly to his little son, and these 
letters had been the pillars round which the 
whole of Jerry’s moral nature had climbed. 
These letters formed the boy’s real Bible — his 
real Articles of faith, his real belief. For Major 
Ramsey, being a very downright, straightforward, 
honourable man, had also extraordinary percep- 
tion and had guessed from the remarks which 
had reached him through Mrs. Fitzgerald’s pen, 
that the little boy in England was no ordinary 
boy, and was capable of receiving no ordinary 
instruction. 

He therefore gave him broad rules of conduct. 
He was to regard his mother as the best and first 
of all women. He was himself to consider manli- 
ness and godliness combined as the essence of 
what a boy should be. If pain came to him, he 
was not to grumble over it. He was never to do 
anything that he would be ashamed to think 
about when he lay a-dying. Fie was never, 
under any provocation, to hurt a girl or a woman. 

These letters, with their words of wisdom, 
reached the boy from time to time ; and then 
there came a last letter, more precious than all 
the others, in which the gospel of all the others 
was summed up. 

“ Do to others as you would be done by. 


8 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Love God and keep His commandments. Love 
your neighbour as yourself.” Then there was 
a postscript : Win your mother’s heart, my 

little lad. Help your mother, my own precious 
boy.” 

Major Ramsey was dead, and lying in his 
Indian grave, when this letter reached Jerry. 
On the day when he received it, he went into 
the copse at the back of Mrs. Cole’s house and 
lay flat down on the ground and kissed the letter 
over and over. But he did not cry, not even 
one tear, for his father would not have liked it. 

This happened six months ago, and now at 
last he was going to meet his own mother. He 
was to meet her in a London hotel. She would 
be his dream mother no longer. He would 
touch her hand and look into her eyes, and under- 
stand her, and begin to take care of her as his 
father had desired him to do. 

The sun poured with greater and greater 
fierceness into the carriage, and Jerry’s lame leg, 
which always ached from the hip down when he 
was tired, became more painful. The flush 
faded from his little face, and notwithstanding 
his spirit and endurance, he looked sadly tired. 
The middle-aged young lady who had been 
whispering so much to her mother turned and 
looked at him. 

“ Wouldn’t you like an orange ? ” she said 
suddenly. “ I have a few in my bag. They 
are getting rather dry, for summer is so near. 


DREAM MOTHERS 


9 

But if you are thirsty, you might find one refresh- 
ing.” 

‘‘ Thank you very much indeed,” said Jerry. 

I just like one, awfully,” he added. 

The old gentleman muttered in an angry tone be- 
hind his sheet of The Times^ but Jerry, spreading 
a handkerchief on his knee, received the orange, 
and amused himself for some little time eating 
it. He then wrapped up the pieces of orange 
peel in a morsel of paper and tucked them away 
into his corner of the carriage. When he had 
quite finished, he turned to the middle-aged 
young lady. 

“ Thank you,” he said ; ‘‘ I am not nearly so 
thirsty now.” 

She gave him a smile of admiration : those 
who looked into Jerry’s eyes always did give him 
that sort of smile. He was accustomed to it and 
thought nothing about it. He was not at all a 
vain little boy. 

By and by, the train slowed into Paddington 
station. Jerry seized his crutch, and began to 
wonder how he could descend from the carriage, 
when a tall footman in dark green livery came 
up and accosted him. 

“ Are you Master Ramsey, sir ? ” 

Yes,” replied Jerry. He thought the foot- 
man a most gentlemanly person. 

‘‘ Will you come with me, then, sir ? I have 
a carriage waiting ; I will put you in and then 
go back and see to your luggage.” 


10 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 


Jerry accepted the footman’s proffered arm 
until he found himself on the platform. Then 
he proudly drew himself up and seized his crutch. 

‘‘ I can walk quite well without help,” he 
said. “ I am only a very little lame.” 

He hopped gallantly to the carriage. The 
footman assisted him in and laid his crutch beside 
him. The carriage felt very soft and padded 
and luxurious after the heat of the train. Jerry 
was glad to see that both the windows were wide 
open. Soon his modest luggage was placed on 
the top. The footman mounted beside the 
coachman. This Jerry regretted, for he would 
have liked that gentlemanly person to sit in the 
Carriage with him and tell him things. Then 
they drove away. 

The breeze fanned the little boy’s hot cheeks. 
The pain in leg and side lessened. His heart 
began to beat. He must be close to his dream 
mother now. Would she be like the mother he 
had seen so often in those said dreams ? 

The carriage drew up outside a fashionable 
hotel, and the footman dismounted, flung open 
the door and helped Jerry to alight. The boy 
looked up at him, eager words on his lips. He 
longed to say “ My mother,” but there came a 
lump in his throat. He was so close to the realiza- 
tion of his dream that his joy bedame almost 
pain. 

The footman seemed to answer his thoughts. 

“ This is the Hotel Cecil, Master Ramsey. Mrs. 


DREAM MOTHERS 


II 


Ramsey has taken a suite of rooms here, and I 
will see you to your own room at once. Mrs. 
Ramsey won’t arrive until about six o’clock. 
Her steamer is not due in Southampton until 
three.” 

Jerry did not know whether he was glad or 
sorry. A certain sense of flatness fell over him. 
He followed the footman through a magnificently 
furnished hall or lounge, found himself in a lift — 
an amazing contrivance which he had never even 
heard of before, and by and by reached a very 
pretty sitting-room luxuriously furnished with 
sofas and easy chairs and little tables and quantities 
of flowers. 

“ That door opens into Mrs. Ramsey’s own bed- 
room, sir,” said the man : ‘‘ and this into your 
room. Master Ramsey. You may like to go to 
your room to wash your face and hands. I will 
bring you up some tea in a few minutes. Would 
you like anything special to eat with your tea, sir ? ” 
I am very hungry ! ” said Jerry. “ I should 
like two eggs, please.” 

“ Yes, sir. Poached eggs, sir ? ” 

“ Please,” said Jerry. 

The man withdrew, and Jerry retired into his 
room. He stayed there for a little time, wander- 
ing round, slowly and painfully. He had no 
brush to brush his hair, but he managed to wash 
his face and hands. He did not glance at his 
little face in the glass. No one ever thought of 
appearances at Mrs. Cole’s. In his black dress. 


12 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

which seemed somehow even to him dusty and 
shabby in that bright, luxurious room, he returned 
to the sitting-room. 

There was a sofa within reach, so soft, so invit- 
ing. He stretched himself on it and uttered a 
sigh of relief. What a very nice man the footman 
was ! He had never seen a footman before ; 
Footmen must be gentlemen ; he was certain 
of it. Perhaps the footman had a mother ; it 
was quite possible. If so, he would prove in- 
teresting. 

Jerry came to the conclusion that he had 
never in the whole course of his life seen any man 
quite so fascinating as the person who had met 
him in green livery at the railway station. When 
the door was swung open and the man reappeared 
bearing a tray daintily on one hand, Jerry’s 
admiration grew still greater. 

‘‘ I am right glad you are lying down, sir,” 
said the footman. “ You will be rested before 
Mrs. Ramsey arrives. I am going to meet her 
at Waterloo station at half-past five — me and the 
coachman, we are both going. I hope your 
tea is to your liking, sir. Shall I pour you out a 
cup ? ” 

“ Please, footman,” said Jerry in a tone of deep 
respect. “ It is very kind of you,” he added. 
Then he continued, wistfully, “ Won’t you sit 
down, footman, and talk to me for a little bit ? ” 

The footman stared, raised his somewhat lofty 
brows and then sank on the edge of a chair, keep- 


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“May I Call You Adolphe?” 



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DREAM MOTHERS 13 

ing tlie extreme edge and holding himself very 
upright. 

“ You will drink your tea while it’s hot, Master 
Ramsey ? ” 

Jerry took the cup obediently, and sipped a 
little. 

“ I like milk best,” he said. ‘‘ I had milk at 
Mrs. Cole’s. What is your name please, foot- 
man ? ” 

“ Adolphe, sir.” 

“ Adolphe ? ” repeated Jerry. ‘‘ It is a beauti- 
ful name, and very uncommon ? ” 

“ You see, sir, my mother was Swiss. Adolphe 
is not an uncommon name in her country.” 

Jerry knew nothing about Switzerland. It is 
to be regretted that his education was much 
neglected. 

“ May I call you Adolphe ? ” he said, “ or 
perhaps Mr. Adolphe would be more respectful, 
wouldn’t it, footman ? ” 

The footman tried to hide a smile. 

“ Call me Adolphe, if you please, sir. Don’t 
put ‘ Mr.’ before it.” 

“ Thank you, Adolphe : I will,” said Jerry. 
‘‘ I admire you so much,” he continued, as he 
attacked a piece of toast with vigour. “ I think 
Adolphe, you are quite the most beautiful man 
I have ever seen.” 

“ Indeed, sir ? ” said Adolphe. ‘‘ You are a 
strange little gentleman, ain’t you now, sir ? ” 

‘‘ No ; I am not,” said Jerry. “ I don’t even 


r4 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

know that I am a gentleman ; I am a hoy ; and 
some day I’ll be a man. I wish to be a true man — 
as you are, Adolphe. I know you are a true man, 
Adolphe. 

“ Well, sir ; I am not a female,” said Adolphe. 
Jerry, not understanding this speech, passed 
it by. 

“ Have you a mother ? ” he asked presently. 
To be sure I have,” said Adolphe ; “ and 
four brothers and three sisters and a stepfather.” 
“ How very interesting!” said Jerry. 


CHAPTER II 


Adolphe 


HE footman stared at him, wondering in 



his own mind whether he was really un- 
comfortable or not in the presence of this small 
and peculiar specimen of boyhood. After a 
little consideration, Adolphe decided not to be 
uncomfortable, but to take his ease. He had 
plenty of time to spare. There was not much 
to be done until the hour arrived when he was 
to go with Mrs. Ramsey’s coachman to meet that 
lady at Waterloo station. 

Accordingly, when Jerry pressed him to get 
into a comfortable chair, he acceded, and lay 
back, crossing his legs restfully. When Jerry 
further requested him to share his tea, the foot- 
man showed no objection, but even went to the 
length of helping himself to a china cup and 
saucer which stood on the mantelpiece. 

When he did this, Jerry laughed gleefully. 

“ You are nice 1 ” he said. ‘‘ I like you so 
very much. We’ll be great friends, won’t we, 
Adolphe ? I’ll always call you Adolphe, and 
you will call me Jerry.” 


i6 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 


‘‘ No, sir ; I must call you Master Jerry, or 
Master Ramsey. We are not in the same rank 
of life, you see, sir.” 

Jerry reflected very deeply on this speech. 

I don’t understand,” he said. Then a cloud 
came over his little face. Of course we are not,” 
he said in a humble tone. “ I forgot just for a 
minute that I am only a poor lame little boy, and 
that you are a grand and very handsome man.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean it that way, sir,” said 
Adolphe, who began to feel slightly uncom- 
fortable. 

He really liked Jerry immensely : he had never 
met such an entertaining little fellow before ; 
and the child meant what he said and wooed 
Adolphe’s rather cold eyes with his fascinating 
smile and his sweet manner, so that what heart 
the footman had was stirred within him. 

Nevertheless, it would never do for Mrs. 
Ramsey to know that he and little Master Jerry 
had partaken of tea together. It would never 
do for the great lady who was coming from over 
the seas to realize for a single minute that Jerry 
thought the footman higher up in the social scale 
than he was himself. He did not want to lose his 
comfortable place. It was necessary, therefore, 
that he should open young Master Ramsey’s eyes. 

“ I take it, sir,” he said, after a minute’s pause, 

that you have lived in the country all your 
days.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Jerry — ‘‘ in the beautiful 


ADOLPHE 


17 

country, God’s country, where flowers grow and 
birds sing. You know the country, don’t you, 
Adolphe ? ” 

“ Oh yes, sir ; I was in Switzerland once and 
I know the mountains. ” Jerry had heard of 
mountains, but had never seen them. Mrs. 
Fitzgerald had told him about the wonders 
of the snow-clad peaks, and the glories of the 
everlasting hills. He looked at Adolphe with 
added respect. 

It’s this way,” said Adolphe, restlessly : “ I 
am only a servant, Master Ramsey, and you are 
a little gentleman. I am not a gentleman : I 
am your mother’s servant. You have treated me 
very kind indeed ; but if you were to mention 
to my mistress that I have had tea with you, and 
that you were as friendly and pleasant as you 
have been, she ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” said Jerry, sitting up 
on his sofa. ‘‘ Why, mother would think it just 
splendid ! She would be delighted ! Why, 
Adolphe, what do you think of my mother ? My 
mother is the most magnificent woman in the 
world. If I am kind to you — if you really think 
it a kindness to ask you to have a little tea with 
me — ^my kindness is nothing at all to the kindness 
my mother will show you. She is the most splen- 
did and wonderful woman on earth. You 
wait till you see her, Adolphe. You will love 
her hard the minute you look at her. You haven’t 
a notion what my mother is.” 


2 


18 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

“ Haven’t I ? ” thought Adolphe, who had 
already heard certain rumours with regard to 
the fashionable lady who was coming over the 
seas to meet her only child. 

Adolphe, however, was very cunning, and he 
saw that he must not contradict the very enthusi- 
astic and remarkable little personage, who with 
shining eyes and flushed cheeks was now looking 
at him. 

“ I have no doubt you are right. Master Ram- 
sey,” he said. “ But you see, sir, even the best 
and most gracious ladies wish their servants to 
stay in their own place. So if I was you, sir, 
I wouldn’t say nothing about the tea-drinking ; 
nor about — about my sitting in this armchair. 
I wouldn’t really, sir ; you take my advice. 
You and me will be the best of friends. Master 
Ramsey ; but you take my advice and don’t 
tell nothing about this to Mrs. Ramsey.” 

Jerry closed his soft baby lips into a somewhat 
thin line. When he opened them again, he said 
in a grave tone : 

“Thank you, Adolphe, for your advice. I 
would not injure you for the world. When did 
you say my mother was coming ? ” 

“ As near as I can tell, sir, she will be here about 
six o’clock.” 

“ Thank you,” said the little boy again. “ I 
have had enough tea ; you may take it away 
please.’ 

The new distance in his manner, the tone of 


ADOLPHE 


19 

reserve, impressed Adolphe, so that he thought 
Master Ramsey a more ^vonderful little being 
even than he had done when he shared his tea, 
and rested in the comfortable easy chair. 

He removed the tea things quickly, presently 
returning with the cup and saucer out of which he 
himself had drunk and putting it up on the mantel- 
piece. Jerry had risen now, and was standing with 
his back to him. He did not speak when the 
footman came in, and when the man withdrew, 
he was still silent. After a time, he again 
approached the sofa and, curling himself up on 
it and resting his cheek on one hand, he fell into 
deep musing. 

Adolphe was certainly a beautiful person, 
but he did not speak very nicely when he alluded 
to Jerry’s mother. 

“ I am not going to have secrets from my own, 
own mother,” thought the boy. I am going 
to tell her every single thing from the very 
beginning. Why, father has left her in my 
charge : I have his letters. As if I’d keep any- 
thing from my own mother 1 Adolphe’s mother 
cannot be quite so nice as most mothers are, 
or he would never have spoken like that.” 

The boy felt a smarting pain at the back of 
his eyes. That pain generally meant — at least with 
most people — tears. But then Jerry did not cry. 
Tears were against his creed. He lay with closed 
eyes for some time, conjuring up that vision of 
all sweetness which had dwelt with him during 


20 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

the past few weeks. Again he was close to his 
dream mother. She was very beautiful. She 
was tall, with a sort of ethereal movement about 
her, and her eyes were blue and dark and deep, so 
that, look as long as you might, you could never 
see to the bottom of her soul. Her soul looked 
through her eyes : her soul was magnificent. 

She and Jerry would have much to say to each 
other. They would talk of the past, and of the 
present, and of the future. They would talk a 
great deal about the boy’s father, and wonder 
together, with their arms round each other, 
where he was now, and what he was doing, and 
Jerry would say what he thought on the subject, 
and mother would whisper back her ideas into 
the little boy’s ear ; and Jerry might — ^yes, he 
might some day, show to his own, own mother 
those priceless letters which his father had written 
to him ; those letters which had been as pillars 
round which his mind had climbed ; and perhaps 
his mother would show Jerry some of the letters 
she had received from her husband. For Jerry 
knew they had often been parted, which must 
have been a terrible pain to them both. 

He felt his heart beat with excitement. The 
minutes seemed long. He could not rest. Fie 
got up and paced about the room. He was 
really not at all very lame, and that pain in his 
hip was nothing — less than nothing. He looked 
at the clock on the mantelpiece. It pointed to 
five. He had a whole hour yet to wait. An 


ADOLPHE 


21 


hour meant sixty minutes, and each minute 
held sixty seconds. An hour was a weary time, 
after all, to wait for one’s dream mother. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” thought Jerry, “ I must be 
patient. Feeling like this is very near grumbling, 
I’d be a poor sort of boy if I grumbled just when 
mother’s so close to me. O mother I O darling ! 
Plow — deeply I love you ! ” 

He lay back again on the sofa, for he was very 
anxious to be fresh and lively when his mother 
came in. She, poor darling, would be tired, 
and would need his help. He would show her at 
once that although he was a little boy in years, 
he was a man in heart ; in short, he was prepared 
to take his father’s place and to help her through 
eyery emergency. Jerry did not use the word 
‘‘ emergency.” He clothed his thoughts in the 
simple language of a little child. But that was 
his idea. 

After a time — he did not know how long — ^it 
seemed to him that his dream mother came into 
the room and told him to be patient and to rest, 
and he fancied somehow that she took his hand 
and stroked it with ineffable gentleness, and he 
fancied, too, that he and she, in perfect content, 
in absolute joy, were talking to each other, and 
that each was pouring out the most sacred secrets 
to the other. In short, he slept, and his dream 
mother stayed close to him. 


CHAPTER III 


Travelling Dust 

“ T T 7HAT a queer, wizened little chap it is ! ” 

^ ▼ said a clear, somewhat staccato voice ; 
and a fashionably dressed lady, tall, with a very 
handsome face, wearing the slightest of widow’s 
mourning, bent over the boy. 

There was a girl standing near the lady, and 
the girl said at once : 

“ Oh, hush, auntie ! He looks so tired : poor 
little dear ! ” 

Jerry stirred. He heard two voices in that 
dream of content. They pushed the dream out 
of sight. They stirred in his brain. He opened 
his dark grey eyes wide, and sprang up with pant- 
ing breath and dilated eyes. 

“ You are my ” he began. 

‘‘ The image of his father ! ” said the lady. 

‘‘ Yes, Fitzgerald, I am your mother. Of course 
you may kiss me, my dear little boy. Why, how 
sadly dusty and dirty you are, and — lame too ! 
Oh, I forgot that he was lame. Mabel, what a 
nuisance ! Won’t you kiss me, Fitzgerald ? ” 

‘‘ You are my mother,” repeated the boy. 

Yes, my child ; I am your mother.” Here . 

22 


TRAVELLING DUST 


23 


the lady burst into a ringing laugh. She seated 
herself in a chair. She drew the chair close to 
Jerry’s sofa. 

“ Why, Mabel,” she said, “ he seems half 
afraid of me, just as though he didn’t believe in 
me. His eyes are exactly like his father’s — those 
great, dark, reproachful sort of eyes. You must 
not look reproachfully at me, Fitzgerald. Yes, 
you may kiss me.” 

The boy tumbled off the sofa. 

“ I am so sorry I was asleep 1 ” he said ; and 
then, oversome by various emotions, he flung 
himself on the fashionable lady, and smothered 
her powdered cheeks and rouged lips with childish 
kisses. 

You are my mother ! ” he gasped. 

Certainly child,” she replied. Why, 
whatever is the matter with the queer little 
thing ? And this is your cousin, Mabel, my 
niece. This is Mabel Laurence. Mabel, I will 
just go to my room and get Zaidee to remove 
my travelling things. No, Fitzgerald, you stay 
where you are. I must see about getting you 
proper clothes to-morrow. Mabel, your room 
is just round the corner, my love. Bye-bye, 
Fitzgerald. Bye-bye, Mabel, for the present.” 

The tall woman crossed the room gracefully. 
Her bedroom led out of the sitting-room. She 
closed the door behind her. Jerry’s face was 
very white. He did not glance at Mabel. There 
was a frightened look in his eyes, 


24 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Mabel was a girl of sixteen and, like all girls 
brought up in India, she was very much deve- 
loped for her age. She was a pretty, unaffected, 
charming creature, and it seemed to her that in a 
measure — only in a measure — she understood the 
little boy’s feelings. 

“ Your mother is tired, Fitzgerald,” she said. 

The full, rich, girlish tone brought a rush of 
comfort to Jerry’s bewildered heart. 

“ They call me Jerry,” he said. Will you ? ” 
Of course I wiU. Your mother is tired, 
Jerry. She has had a long and dusty journey. 
She will be quite different when she is rested.” 

‘‘ Really ? Are you sure ? ” 

He looked at Mabel eagerly. 

‘‘ Sure ? Of course I am. Now, listen, 
Jerry : she is very particular about little boys, 
and of course she has thought an awful lot of you, 
and of meeting you and of having you with 
her.” 

Has she ? ” said Jerry, the pain leaving his 
face, and some of the brightness returning to it. 

‘‘ Of course,” said Mabel ; “ but you are a 
little smudged, you know, from travelling, and a 
little — just a little dusty. Suppose I take you to 
my room and brush you up. You’ll look awfully 
pretty when your hair is brushed, and when I 
have washed a smut off your cheek. Your 
mother thinks a lot of pretty people ; she wor- 
ships beauty.” 

‘‘ Oh, so do I,” said Jerry, with great fervour. 


TRAVELLING DUST 


25 

“ Thank you so very much — may I call you 
Mabel ? Are you a mother ? ” 

Mabel Laurence laughed very gently. 

“ Oh, no,” she said ; ‘‘ I am only a girl. How 
old are you ? Eight ? I know you are just 
eight. Well, I am sixteen — double your age, 
but still very young. You and I will be play- 
mates, Jerry. You can talk to me about any- 
thing.” 

Jerry shook his head solemnly. “ I like you 
awfully, playmate,” he said, “ but there are some 
things I can only talk about to my mother.” 

He held out his little hot hand as he spoke and 
Mabel Laurence led him into her bedroom. 

When they got there Jerry, after a minute’s 
pause, said inquiringly : 

“ Mabel, have you got a mother ? ” 

“ No,” said Mabel. ‘‘ My mother is dead.” 

“ With the angels ? ” said Jerry, in a tone of 
interrogation. 

Yes, I think so,” said Mabel, who as a matter 
of fact had not given the mother she had lost in 
infancy a thought for many years. 

“ My father is with the angels,” said Jerry. 

He has been with them for some months now — 
six months. He is very happy. He is with God, 
you know, and the angels. It is very beautiful, 
isn’t it ? ” 

“ It is,” said Mabel. ‘‘ But listen, my dear 
little playmate. You mustn’t talk about your 
father to Aunt Cecilia.” 


26 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 


“ To my mother ? I must not talk about 
father to my mother ? ” 

“ It will upset her,” said Mabel. “ She will 
cry very hard.” 

“ Oh,” said Jerry, shaking his head solemnly ; 
‘‘ I never cry — ^you know, Mabel, men don’t.” 

“ I am sure you are brave,” said Mabel. 

She felt puzzled by this small boy. She was 
a nice girl with plenty of heart and feeling, 
but she had never come across the Jerry sort 
of boy before : he was absolutely new to her, and 
althpugh she liked him she quite failed to under- 
stand him. Ordinary- people did not talk about 
God and the angels in that everyday sort of 
manner. They thought of God and of the 
angels in church, but they did not talk of them 
ever — in fact, it was not the custom. Mabel 
knew how shocked her exceedingly worldly Aunt 
Cecilia would be if the little boy spoke to her as 
he spoke to Mabel. 

“ I must get him,” thought the girl, “ into a 
commonplace frame of mind. He is too intense, 
too fanciful. Auntie will never get on with him, 
and he — he will break his poor little sensitive 
heart. Oh, I like him immensely ; he is quite a 
dear little chap, but he will never get on with 
auntie unless I coach him beforehand.” 

So Mabel, after her fashion, took great pains 
with Jerry. She washed his face for him, which 
he submitted to with a bad grace, for he liked to 
do that kind of thing for himself. And then 


TRAVELLING DUST 


27 

slie brushed his thick, curly, chestnut hair, patting 
the little curls as they formed themselves afresh 
under her clever efforts ; and she looked once or 
twice into the clear steadfast grey eyes, and 
noticed the charming little features, and the pale, 
but not unhealthy little face. There was no 
doubt that Jerry, properly dressed, would, not- 
withstanding his lameness, look a very beautiful 
little fellow. Mabel hoped much from his 
beauty. That would touch Aunt Cecilia, if 
nothing else did. But he was very much like 
Major Ramsey, and Major Ramsey and Mrs. Ram- 
sey were — well, to say the least of it, they never 
understood each other. Mabel felt uncomfort- 
able. 

‘‘ Now, Jerry,” she said, we’ll go back. To- 
morrow auntie will buy you some pretty new 
clothes, and you will take drives with us in Hyde 
Park and have a right good time. But you 
must never talk about your father, at least, not 
at first.” 

“ Cousin Mabel ? ” said Jerry. 

“ What is it, dear ? ” she asked. 

‘‘ I wish you would not tell me what I am to do 
and what I am not to do. I have got plain 
Sections from father’s own self what I am to do 
and what I am not to do ; and I must obey father 
before anybody else. Cousin Mabel. You are 
not angry with me, are you ? I have to do what 
father has told me to do ; don’t you under- 
stand ? ” 


28 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Mabel said she did, although she did not, 
and they went back to the drawing-room. Mrs. 
Ramsey came in presently, dressed for dinner. 
She wore a semi-evening dress. It was slightly 
open at the throat and displayed her beautiful 
arms from the elbows down. 

The summer evening had faded into night, and 
in the soft light of the gold coloured electric 
globes she looked younger and fairer than when 
Jerry first saw her. 

‘‘ Oh, I am tired ! ” she said, flinging herself 
into a chair. “ That run up from Southampton 
was horrid. Mabel, what sort of dress is that you 
are wearing ? I wish you would go and put 
on something white : I hate to see you always in 
black.” 

Mabel was wearing a very thin, black dress. 
She had put it on because of Jerry. She guessed 
somehow that Jerry would expect her to be in 
black. She hesitated now for a minute, and then 
left the room to comply with her aunt’s wish. 
Mrs. Ramsey took no notice at all of the silent 
little boy who sat on the sofa. She took up a 
book and turned the pages : then she flung it 
down and yawned restlessly. 

“ I do wish dinner were ready,” she said, utter- 
ing a discontented sigh. 

“ Shall I ring ? ” cried Jerry, eagerly. Adolphe 
will hurry it up. Would you like to have it 
here, mother ? ” 

“ Certainly not ! ” said Mrs. Ramsey. “ I 


TRAVELLING DUST 


29 

forgot you were in the room, Fitzgerald. By the 
way, I had better call you Fitz, for I cannot say 
Fitzgerald every minute. Yes, ring the bell, 
child.” 

Jerry complied eagerly. As he crossed the room 
to reach the electric bell, his lameness was very 
perceptible. 

“ I forgot that you were lame : it is so tire- 
some,” said his mother. 

“ It hurts sometimes,” said Jerry, talking in 
as cheerful a tone as he could : “ but I am 
learning not to mind it. We must have pain, 
mustn’t we ? ” 

“ I don’t think that at all : I consider pain un- 
necessary.” 

Adolphe the footman had now come into the 
room. 

“ When is table d’hote ready ? ” asked Mrs 
Ramsey. 

“ Table d’h6te will be ready in ten minutes, 
madam,” replied the man in a respectful tone. 

“ Come and let me know when it is served,” 
said Mrs. Ramsey ; “ and, Adolphe, order a table 
for Miss Laurence and me in one of the windows.” 

“ Yes, madam.” 

Adolphe had a very stately way now, and did 
not even dare to glance at Jerry whose solemn 
eyes were fixed on his face. When the door 
closed, the little boy gave a sigh. 

“ Isn’t he handsome ? ” he said. 

‘‘ What are you saying, child ? ” 


30 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

“ Adolphe, our footman,” said Jerry ; “ isn’t 
he a beautiful man ? ” 

Mrs. Ramsey turned and looked at the boy. 

“ Really, Fitz ! ” she said. ‘‘ You are comi- 
cal : a footman — handsome ? Why, a footman 
has no features. He is — nothing.” 

“ Oh, mother ! ” said Jerry. 

“ Don’t speak in that intense way, dear : it is 
silly and old-world.” 

“ Old-world ? ” said Jerry. ‘‘ And what is 
that ? ” 

Mrs. Ramsey gave another yawn. 

“ I never explain things to children. Children 
should be seen and not heard.” 

Jerry gasped and sat down. There was a long 
silence, or it seemed a long silence to the little 
boy. When it had come to an end something 
seemed to beat so hard in Jerry’s heart that he 
could bear himself no longer. Notwithstanding 
his lameness, which he knew his mother disliked, 
he went up to her side and touched her on the 
arm. She had closed her eyes. She opened them 
and looked at him. He saw that her eyes were 
-very lovely, of a deep violet tone with long black 
lashes. They were soft, too ; there might be a 
soul behind them. Renewed hope beat in Jerry’s 
breast. 

“ Mother,” he said. 

“ Well, Fitz,” she replied. 

“ Wc’ll have a great deal to say to each other, 
won’t we, sometime, when you are quite rested. 


TRAVELLING DUST 


31 

Perhaps you’ll be rested to-morrow, and have got 
all the travelling dust off your face. I know 
you must be awfully tired, mother, because of 
the dust on your face.” 

“ O, O ! ” cried the lady. ‘‘ The child 
talks of the powder on my face as travelling 
dust. It will be there to-morrow and the next 
day and the next day, Fitz. But what do you 
want to say ? ” 

‘‘ When vou are rested,” said Jerry, swallowing 
this fact and putting it away, as it were, for fur- 
ther digestion, “ we will talk, won’t we ? You 
will tell me things, and I will tell you things. I 
have been so ‘ incited ’ mother ” 

“ Incited ? ” said Mrs. Ramsey. “ What is 
that ? ” 

“ About you coming home.” 

“ Oh, you mean ^;v-cited ! A boy of your age 
ought to talk proper English. Of course I will do 
all that is right for you, Fitz.” 

“ I am your own little boy,” he said. 

“ Yes,” she answered. 

He laid his hand timidly on hers. The hand 
at least had none of the travelling dust on it. 
She took the little hand, which was brown and 
fairly strong, and patted it good-humouredly. 

“ I wish to say,” she remarked, ‘‘ that I am not 
at all a sentimental woman, but I am prepared to 
do my duty by you, Fitz : I have come home on 
purpose. That lameness of yours must be put 
right and — ^you must get proper clothes : these 


32 THE COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

things you are wearing at present are hideous — 
positively hideous. But you have a nice little 
face, only your eyes are too like — too like the dear 
Major’s.’’ 

Jerry suddenly withdrew his hand. 

‘‘ I am glad,” he said : ‘‘ I am glad they are 
like father’s.” 

He held himself erect. His leg hurt him 
frightfully but he was not going to mind that. 
He was nearer crying than he had ever been in all 
his life before ; but not for worlds would he 
yield to the emotion. 

The door was opened and Adolphe ap- 
peared. 

“ Dinner is served, madam,” he said ; and at 
that instant Mabel came out of her room. 

Mrs. Ramsey rose with alacrity. 

“ Good-night, Fitz,” she said. “ My maid, 
Zaidee, will see you into bed and get you some 
milk or anything you like for supper. Go to bed 
at once ; I am sure you are tired. Good-night, 
dear.” 

She kissed him lightly on his forehead. Mabel 
in her white dress, which was very soft and flowing, 
bent and kissed him on his lips. 

“ Good-night, brave little playmate,” she said, 
and then she followed her aunt out of the room. 
As they were going downstairs, Mrs. Ramsey said 
to Mabel : 

“ What an extraordinary, over-wrought child. 
What am I to do with him, Mabel ? He will be 


TRAVELLING DUST 


33 


no end of a nuisance. I knew the Major was 
wrong leaving him with those people all those 
years ; but the Major never would listen to me 
where Fitzgerald was concerned. I shall have 
to send him to some school where he will get 
a little hardened and all that silly ridiculous 
sentimentality knocked out of him.” 

“ Oh, but he is quite a darling,” said Mabel ; 
“ and isn’t his face absolutely beautiful, 
auntie ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, is it ? ” said Mrs. Ramsey. ‘‘ Perhaps it 
would be, but his eyes are so extraordinarily like 
the Major’s when the Major was in one of his 
tempers.” 

“ Oh, auntie ! Uncle Fitz was never cross.” 

“ He wasn’t your husband, child. Dear, dear ! 
How queer the world is ! I must send Fitz to 
school.” 

I am sure he is much too delicate,” said 
Mabel. 

“ Yes, that reminds me — his lameness is an 
awful bore : to have an only son, and that son a 
cripple ! I wonder what Cyril Digby will think 
of him. I told him about the boy on our 
voyage home ; but I forgot that he was a 
cripple.” 

“ Dear little Jerry ! ” murmured Mabel. ‘‘ But 
there are very clever doctors in London, auntie, 
and perhaps he can be cured.” 

“ He must be cured, if possible,” said Mrs. 
Ramsey. 


3 


34 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

She entered the great dining salon of the 
fashionable hotel, swept up to her table, knowing 
that she was the centre of attraction to many 
pairs of eyes, and sat down opposite to Mabel. 


CHAPTER IV 


Early to Bed 

WEEK later a small boy, most elegantly 



dressed in deep purple velvet, with a cap 
to match, a Vandyke collar and knee breeches, 
his little legs encased in silk stockings, and his 
small feet beautified with dainty shoes and silver 
buckles, was seated opposite two ladies in a car- 
riage which drove slowly up and down the fashion- 
able drive of Hyde Park. Other carriages passed 
and repassed them ; and many gentlemen took off 
their hats to the ladies, and many ladies bowed, 
and there were exclamations more than once 
with regard to the beauty of the boy ; so much 
so, that Mrs. Ramsey became rather proud of 
Fitzgerald, as she insisted on calling him : and 
the prouder she grew of him, the kinder she was 
in her manner towards him. 

Jerry, after a week of conflict, during which 
he had suffered far more than most little boys 
of eight years old, had taken counsel with his 
father’s letters and made up his mind to the 
existing order of things. His mother was not the 
least like his dream mother. That was a fact 


35 


36 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

which he had to face. She always had travelling 
dust on her face. He did not like it, but as he 
saw that many other ladies had the same, he sup- 
posed that it was the correct thing. It must be 
right, or his mother would not wear it. All the 
same he was glad his cousin Mabel did not. Her 
cheeks were soft, with the bloom of a peach on 
them : her eyes were blue and gentle. She was 
round, too, like a kitten, and generally had a 
girlish, playful way. She was exceedingly kind 
to Jerry, too kind he sometimes thought. The 
small boy, having made up his mind with regard 
to the travelling dust, that it was an accessory 
natural to mothers, and to the sort of mother 
his father loved so dearly, m.ade up his mind also 
that the character of his mother was exactly the 
sort which he ought to esteem. Of course, there 
was no doubt whatever on the subject. His 
father had adored the woman who was Jerry’s 
mother. In every letter he wrote to the little 
boy he had spoken of her, and always in terms of 
deep affection. Then there was that last precious 
letter in v/hich he had committed her to Jerry’s 
care. 

Jerry understood, during that week, that his 
task with regard to his mother would be one of 
extreme difficulty ; but none the less was he 
inclined to undertake it. Nay, more, he was 
determined to undertake it. She was not the 
confiding, sorrowful, deeply affectionate woman, 
his dream mother had appeared to him, but that 


EARLY TO BED 


37 

mattered nothing at all. She was his mother ; his 
father had regarded her as the first of all women ; 
therefore Jerry must do the same. To accomplish 
this, he must look at certain things through her 
eyes. It was a little puzzling. Mrs. Fitzgerald had 
by no means prepared him for it. Mrs. Cole had 
certainly not turned his small mind in the direc- 
tion in which it was in future to bend itself. 
Nevertheless, there was no doubt whatever on 
the subject. He was to love his mother with 
all his heart and soul. To love her he must 
respect her ; he must understand her. In 
short, he must look at things from her point of 
view. 

So he cheerfully accepted the new position, 
learned to be silent, whereas he had a whole 
world of things to say, learned to repress the 
affection which was always bubbling up within 
him, and, in short, learned to efface himself as 
much as possible. 

This state of things was not arrived at without 
considerable difficulty, and so much mental 
suffering that the boy’s bodily health, never too 
strong, began to fail. He missed the freshness 
of the country air and the exercise which Mrs. 
Cole obliged him to take. However painful it was 
to his hip to walk about, Mrs. Cole made him do 
so. She also gave him household matters to 
attend to, and, in short, kept that little body of 
his in exquisite, perfect order, obliging the boy 
to go to bed very early and to get up early, 


38 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

like the birds. Then Mrs. Fitzgerald had fed his 
mind, not with the routine knowledge of the 
ordinary schoolboy, but with thoughts which 
uplifted and satisfied : and there were his father’s 
precious letters coming from time to time, and 
there was always the fresh, lovely country air to 
breathe, and the wholesome country food to 
eat, and the birds to listen to, and the animals 
to watch, and there was ever and ever a sense 
of expectancy which in Jerry’s mind w’as the 
essence of hope. 

Now it is extremely difficult for any one, be 
that person a little child or grown up, or even old, 
to live without hope. It was the fact that Jerry 
had come to that pass just now in his little life’s 
journey which made him feel so queer, so without 
stamina, so strangely wakeful at night, and in his 
heart of hearts sorrowful by day. He had come 
up to his hope, the great hope of finding a 
mother ; and behold ! now that he had seen her, 
she did not satisfy him. 

“ She is my mother, and she cannot change,” 
he thought. “ The mothers who belong to the 
Jcrrys of the w^orld always wear travelling dust, 
and always tell little boys that they are to be seen 
and not heard, and don’t want kisses and never 
tuck little boys up at night nor hear them say 
‘ Our Father.’ ” 

Nevertheless, Jerry, being essentially brave 
and having carefully read all his father’s letters 
over again by stealth, made up his mind that if 


EARLY TO BED 


39 

a boy could not live without his dream being 
realized, he must be a poor sort of fellow. 

Jerry had his work to do. His work was to 
look after his mother. He thought over this 
with intense anxiety on one very hot night. 
Jerry’s room in the little suite which his mother 
occupied in the smart hotel was small. It faced 
due west. The sun poured for hours and hours 
into the boy’s bedroom. It was one of Mrs. 
Ramsey’s whims that Jerry should go to bed very 
early. She liked to feel that he was safe and out 
of the way. Having done her duty by him during 
the daytime, and having invariably taken him for 
that drive in the Park which she considered so 
good for his health, and so exceedingly picturesque 
for herself, she allowed him to have tea with 
her : that is, if she happened to have tea in 
the hotel. But at seven o’clock he had a slice 
of bread and butter and a glass of milk and 
was ordered by his mother to retire for the 
night. 

On these occasions Zaidee helped him. Zaidee 
came into the room and popped him into bed. 
She was a cross-looking, sour woman of about 
forty- five years of age. When Jerry first saw 
her, he asked his invariable question : ‘‘ Are you 
a mother ? ” and when Zaidee replied in a 
snappish tone that she was unmarried and would 
not have children for the world, it seemed to 
little Fitz that a door shut up in his heart against 
her and that he did not want to see much of her. 


40 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

She disliked very much having to attend to a 
little boy, and told this little boy so frank- 

On the special evening when Jerry, having 
quite made up his mind, was prepared to follow 
out his duties to the bitter end, Mrs. Ramsey 
and Mabel were having tea with a friend. 
This friend lived in a large house in Park Lane. 
Mabel and Mrs. Ramsey were to go with their 
friend afterwards to the theatre, and were to 
wind up with a supper at the Carlton. Their 
evening things had been sent to the friend’s 
house ; and in consequence, Jerry found himself 
alone in the flat. 

About half-past six o’clock Zaidee came into 
the sitting-room with a tray which contained 
Jerry’s milk and bread and butter. 

“ I want you to go to bed early to-night. 
Master Fitz,” she said. 

“ It isn’t more than half-past six,” said Jerry, 
who valued his few minutes in the cool sitting- 
room more than Zaidee had any idea of. ‘‘ I 
need not go before seven, need I ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, you must to-night,” said Zaidee, not 
scrupling about telling a lie. “ My mistress 
said that you were looking white, and that you 
wanted more rest. Come at once, now, and I 
will undress you.” 

‘‘ But my room is so hot, Zaidee,” objected 
Jerry. “ The sun is pouring in. If I get into 
bed now it will be shining on me. I get so very 


EARLY TO BED 


41 

uncomfortable when the sun shines on my bed, 
Zaidee.” 

“ What a grumbler you are ! ’’ said Zaidee, 
“ always objecting, objecting. I know my mis- 
tress won’t stand much of this. She’ll send you 
to school pretty sharp when I tell her that you 
don’t obey her. Come along this minute, and 
let me put you into bed.” 

Jerry got up without a word. He walked with 
what dignity he could into his tiny hot bed- 
room. 

I don’t want any one to undress me,” he 
said. “ When I was with Mrs. Cole I undressed 
myself. You needn’t wait, Zaidee; I’ll get 
into bed all right.” 

“ Fudge ! ” said Zaidee. ‘‘ I know what little 
boys are. Here, let me take off these things.” 

She snatched at the boy and began rudely to 
divest him of his hot little velvet suit. Soon 
she had put on his tiny blue silk pyjamas and, 
turning down the bed desired him to pop in. 

‘‘ I should like a bath so much,” said Jerry. 

“ You can have it in the morning. I have no 
time now,” said Zaidee. She sighed as she spoke, 
and put her hand to her forehead. There was 
something in her action which awoke the sym- 
pathy of the child. 

“ Oh ! ” he said eagerly : “ have you a headache ? 
Is that why you are in such a hurry to put me to 
bed ? ” 

‘‘ No ; I have no headache,” said Zaidee 


42 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

crossly. “ Don’t go with your complaints to 
your mother to-morrow morning about me.” 

‘‘ Of course not,” said Jerry. ‘‘ What do you 
think I am ? ” 

There was such dignity in his expression and 
in his words that Zaidee stared at him. She 
began to feel a slight prick of remorse. Adolphe 
had said a great deal in Jerry’s favour, and Zaidee 
could quite perceive that a footman had features, 
and handsome ones too. She wondered in a dim 
sort of way if Adolphe was right. 

“ You can drink your milk and eat your bread 
and butter when you like, Master Fitzgerald,” 
she said. “ I will leave it on this little table 
near you. And now you will be a good boy and 
go to sleep.” 

Jerry said nothing. He was not going to tell 
a lie, but he knew well that he would not sleep 
for a very long time. 

“ Good-night,” he said quietly, as the woman 
prepared to leave the room. 

“ Good-night,” she answered in a cross tone. 

She shut the door after her and Jerry heard her 
crossing the sitting-room and going to another 
part of the little suite. Presently, he knew by 
a far-off sound that she had left the suite of 
rooms altogether and had gone downstairs. 

He guessed that Zaidee was going out. He 
felt certain that he was alone, quite alone, in 
this set of rooms which in reality resembled 
a small flat. He breathed a sigh of content. It 


EARLY TO BED 


43 

was nice to be alone. Zaidee would not 
come back for hours. His mother would not 
return until — oh, he did not know when, but 
sometime in the middle of the night, and Cousin 
Mabel was with his mother. This was his 
opportunity. 

He sat up in bed and looked around him. 
Then very softly he put first one foot on the floor 
and then the other. Then he ran across the 
room and opened the door of his bedroom. He 
wanted to get more air. The air coming in 
from the sitting-room was quite cool. Having 
accomplished this feat, he went carefully to his 
chest of drawers, opened the top one and took 
out a little box. The box was his own. It was 
a roughly made deal box which a carpenter in 
the village close to Mrs. Cole’s had given him on 
his last birthday. It had a lock and key. The 
lock was of the poorest and the key of the worst. 
Nevertheless, it was a box that would lock. 
Jerry was intensely proud of the fact. He wore 
the key fastened to a piece of blue ribbon round 
his neck. 

He unlocked the box now and took out his 
father’s letters. There were nine letters al- 
together in the box. He meant to read them 
through. He felt that it was necessary for him to 
refresh his memory with these beloved letters. 
He sat down on the edge of the bed and took up 
the first. It was written in a large round hand 
suitable for a little boy who was at that time only 


44 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

six years of age. Even at six years old Jerry could 
just manage to spell out his father’s letters ; for 
he was a singularly precocious little fellow, and 
had learned both to read and write when very 
young. 

The first letter was remarkably simple. 

“ My dear little Lad, — 

Father hopes this will reach you on your birth- 
day. You will be six years old. If you are 
learning sums, you will find out that you will 
have been in the world on the birthday that 
makes you six years old, for seventy- two months. 
That is quite a long time. Father has a picture 
of his little boy, and Father will kiss it on Jerry’s 
birthday, and send a prayer to God to bless 
Jerry. 

“ Mother is not with Father, or of course she 
would send her love. Father is away, helping 
to keep some troublesome black people quiet. 
They are naughty people, who know nothing 
about God and goodness. Perhaps some day 
Father will be able to tell them that God is Love. 

“ It is late, and this letter must go to the post 
in order that Jerry may get it on his birthday. 
God bless Jerry boy ! Father’s love. Mother’s 
love. I have kissed the middle of the round circle 
at the bottom of the letter. Kiss it too, Jerry 
boy : thus our lips will meet. 


Father.” 


EARLY TO BED 


45 

When Jerry first received that letter, he did 
not half understand it ; but he felt that he 
understood it now, when aged eight years and 
four months. He sat on the side of his little bed 
in that hot room all alone, and yet not alone : 
for surely God was Love, and father was with 
God. He read gravely through the other 
letters. He knew them so well and had spelt 
them out so often that the task was easy. He 
read all the eight letters until he came to the 
ninth. But this final letter, which had reached 
him when his brave father had really gone to God 
he felt somehow that he could not read to-night. 

So he put the letters carefully back into the 
wooden box, and was just preparing to lock it, 
when a sound in the room outside caused him to 
raise his eyes. He looked up at first with a slight 
start. Then he smiled. Adolphe was in the 
outer room and was staring hard at Jerry. 

“ Come in, Adolphe, do,” said Jerry in a tone 
of great pleasure. “ I am so pleased to see you. 
I am a bit lonely, you know, and have got un- 
dressed rather early. Oh, I don’t grumble at all, 
but I am just not sleepy. Come in and talk to 
me, Adolphe, won’t you ? Oh, dear Adolphe, 
you are a gentleman ! ” 

Adolphe tip-toed into the room. 

“ I say. Master Fitzgerald, there’s a gentle- 
man come — he wants to see your mother, and 
though I told him Mrs. Ramsey was out, he 
would not go away. He is downstairs waiting. 


46 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

He says he’ll wait until your mother comes in. 
What am I to do ? If Zaidee were here — but 
she is out. She has gone to the theatre with 
one of the waiters ; that is why she has put you 
to bed so early. What am I to do with the 
gentleman, Master Fitzgerald.” 

“I wish you would call me Jerry,” said the 
little boy. 

“ Well, Master Jerry : it don’t matter much 
how I call you when Mrs. Ramsey ain’t by. But 
what am I to do with the gentleman ? ” 

Jerry pondered. It would be exceedingly 
rude to send a gentleman away : he felt certain 
on that point. He thought for a time. Then 
he raised those queer, pathetic, half reproachful, 
and wholly beautiful eyes of his to the footman’s 
face. 

“ Adolphe,” he said ; ‘‘ you are a gentleman, 
and a very beautiful man, and you must know 
things. Do you really, truly think that the 
gentleman downstairs who wants to see mother 
is the sort of man father would love ? ” 

‘‘ Can’t tell you. Master Jerry. Know nothing 
about your father.” 

“ Of course you don’t,” said Jerry, putting his 
hand with a jealous movement on the wooden 
box. “ It would have been a great, great privi- 
lege for you, Adolphe, had you ever known a man 
like my father, I am ever so sorry for you : I 
think perhaps the best thing would be for the 
gentleman to come up and I’d speak to him my 


EARLY TO BED 


47 

own self. He wouldn’t mind seeing a little hoy 
in his blue silk pyjamas, would he, Adolphe ? It 
wasn’t my fault that I went to bed so early. And 
I won’t lie down ; I’ll just sit as I am on the edge 
of my bed, and he can talk to me from the sitting- 
room. What is his name, Adolphe ? ” 

“ Colonel Digby is his name, sir.” 

“ Oh, then he is in the Army,” said Jerry. 
“ Of course he knew father. He is one of the 
great soldiers of our King. Please ask him to 
come up ; and please explain about me. Say 
that my pyjamas are new and made of silk.” 

“ Very well. Master Fitz,” replied the footman. 

He turned and left the room. A minute or 
two later a manly tread was heard in the corridor 
outside. The sitting-room door was flung open. 
Adolphe announced, “ Colonel Digby,” and a 
gentleman entered Mrs. Ramsey’s sitting-room. 
There was no one in the room. The gentleman 
did not quite know whether he expected to see 
any one there, but a door at the further end was 
open, and a clear, small, piping voice said. 

Please don’t mind me ; my pyjamas are silk 
and quite pretty. Please come and talk to me for 
a minute. I am Major Ramsey’s little boy.” 

The gentleman so addressed advanced within 
a foot or two of Jerry’s tiny bedroom. He 
uttered the word, “Jove ! ” and stared hard at 
the little figure in the blue pyjamas. 

“ I say ! ” he exclaimed ; and then he raised 
his hand and curled one side of his moustaches. 


48 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

He was a tall man with a sunburnt face, slightly 
reddish hair and kind blue eyes. He held himself 
very erect as soldiers do. He was dressed in 
immaculate evening clothes and Jerry saw a dia- 
mond ring flash on the small finger of his hand. 

“ So you are Major Ramsey’s boy ? ” he 
said. 

“ Yes,” answered Jerry with great dignity and 
speaking slowly. “ I am father’s boy, and mother’s 
boy. Do you know much about Heaven ? 
Father’s there. Would you like to come into 
my bedroom and talk to me ? You could sit 
on the edge of the bed if you didn’t mind. You 
look rather — rather — ” Jerry hesitated for a 
word — “ nice.” 

“ Jove ! ” said Colonel Digby. “ You are a 
rum little chap.” He advanced into the room. 
“ Phew ! ” he said ; “ it is much too hot here. 
You can’t sleep in this sort of den. Why, the 
sun is pouring in still at that window, and the 
day has been chokingly hot. What are you in 
bed for so early ? ” 

“ I am not in bed : I am sitting up : my 

pyj — ” 

“ You needn’t tell me any more about your 
garments. I only want to know why you are 
in this room.” 

“ It is a very nice room indeed,” said Jerry, who 
became at once on the defensive, for it occurred 
to him that Colonel Digby was blaming his 
mother, and that of course could not be per- 


EARLY TO BED 


49 

mitted ; and I like being hot — that is, I rather 
like it,” he continued. 

“ But I don’t,” said Colonel Digby. I can’t 
stay long in this room. I say, little chap : when 
will your mother be home ? ” 

“ I heard mother say to Mabel that she 
would be back sometime in the small hours,” 
said Jerry ; “ I suppose that is a good way off,” 
he added. 

“ Jove — yes : I should think so ! ” remarked 
Colonel Digby. “ And what are we to do with 
ourselves until the small hours ? ” 

“ We ? you and I ? ” asked Jerry, his eyes 
sparkling. 

Why, of course. We have got to entertain 
each other, I presume,” replied the Colonel. 

“ I can talk a lot to you,” said Jerry, “ if you 
like ; only mother says that little boys must be 
seen and not heard.” 

The Colonel laughed. ‘‘ Listen,” he said, 
‘‘ I want to see your mother to-night ; so I’ll 
wait till she comes back. She knew I was coming, 
and she didn’t leave a message ; but she will find 
me here when she returns. Suppose you and I 
have a bit of fun together. You’re not sleepy, 
are you ? ” 

‘‘Not a bit,” said Jerry, his eyes sparkling. 

“ It wouldn’t hurt you to get back into your 
day clothes, would it ? ” 

“ It would a tiny bit,” said Jerry ; “ for 
you see — I am — ^lame.” He paused before the 

4 


50 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

word. “ Not that it matters,” he added. I 
mean,” he continued, “ pain is good for us, 
isn’t it?” 

“ No ; I don’t think so.” 

“ Then you never did know my father,” said 
Jerry in a tone of great disappointment. 

“ Your father, child — Major Ramsey ? Didn’t 
I know him just ? What is your name, little 
chap ? ” 

“ My name is rather puzzling,” said Jerry. 
‘‘ It is sometimes Fitzgerald — that seems a very 
strange name to me — and it’s sometimes Jerry. 
But mother calls me Fitz.” 

‘‘ You like ‘ Jerry ’ best, I take it ? ” 

“ Yes, ’course I do. Father called me Jerry.” 

“ Well,” said Colonel Digby, “ I’ll tell you 
something. I knew Ramsey had a son, but that 
was about all. I didn’t know he had a son as 
like him in the eyes as one human creature can 
be like another. I guess one thing about you, 
kid. If you take after your father, you will 
turn into the sort of man who does good in 
the world. As to me — well, I am commonplace. 
I am just an ordinary chap, not worthy to 
tie your father’s shoestrings. You understand, 
don’t you ? ” 

“You loved him,” said Jerry. He spoke very 
low ; his little voice was trembling. 

“ I ” — said Colonel Digby — “ no, I didn’t 
love him.” 



What is in That Box?” Asked the Colonel. 



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EARLY TO BED 


SI 

Oh ! ” said Jerry. He gave a gasp and a 
lump came into his throat. 

The Colonel turned his back abruptly. He 
stood for a minute staring out into the luxurious 
sitting-room, then he wheeled round and looked 
at the boy in that little box of a bedroom, that 
tiny room, unfit for any healthy child to sleep in. 
The boy’s face was very white, and there were 
drops of perspiration on his forehead. He was 
clasping a roughly made wooden box in his hands. 

“ What is in that box ? ” asked the Colonel, 
almost roughly. 

He felt somehow that he did not like the sit- 
uation but that he must say something. Jerry 
looked full up at him. 

The box holds father’s letters to me,” he 
said. “ I can’t show them to you : I hope you 
don’t think me rude, but I just can’t, you 
know.” 

“ Of course not,” said the Colonel. “ Jove,” 
he murmured : “ I wouldn’t read them for 
creation. If the boy but knew.” 

“ I say,” continued the Colonel, rousing himself 
and shaking off, as it were, a sort of nightmare, 
“ you’re a jolly little chap, and I want to be 
amused. We’ll get your mother’s footman — 
Adolphe, he calls himself — to come and help you 
to dress, and you and I will have some light re- 
freshments in the sitting-room, and afterwards 
I’ll tell you stories of tigers and other wild 
creatures that I shot in the jungle/ 


52 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

‘‘ Oh,” said Jerry. “ And you don’t mind if 
I ask you a lot of questions ? ” 

‘‘ Ask me anything on earth you like,” replied 
the Colonel, “ except about your father, for I 
was never fit to tie his shoestrings.” 


CHAPTER V 


A Champagne Supper 



^HE rest of that evening was one never to be 


forgotten by little Jerry Ramsey. It was 
a wild sort of evening, intensely exciting. It was 
an evening to be thought of when one lay in bed 
and the world was rather dull. It was the sort of 
time when you catch your breath for sheer 
pleasure, when the world opens out new doors to 
you and you get glimpses of enchanted palaces 
and fairy princes and princesses. It was the sort 
of evening when your heart grows very rapidly, 
and you find all of a sudden, and quite unex- 
pectedly, that you have room in it for new person- 
ages, when your mind expands also, and you have 
room in it for marvellously new impressions. In 
short, it was an evening so golden and beautiful 
and wonderful that if Jerry had not read a very 
different description of Heaven in the holiest of 
all books, he might have supposed that he was 
standing at the threshold of the Paradise above. 

For the time being, at least, the Colonel 
absorbed every faculty of his mind, every thought 
of his heart. To begin with, when Colonel Digby 


54 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

rang the bell, and a strange servant appeared — 
one of the hotel waiters, not the redoubtable 
Adolphe — and when this man informed the 
Colonel that Adolphe had gone out for a little air 
and exercise, the Colonel gave some brief direc- 
tions. He gave them in a firm but low voice at 
the door of the sitting-room. 

When the man had withdrawn. Colonel Digby 
returned to jerry’s hot bedroom. 

“ I have done many queer things in my day,” 
he said, “ but I never dressed a little boy before. 
Now, I must manage to dress you somehow. 
You will have to give me directions. I hope you 
won’t break — I don’t know anything whatever 
about small boys. Give me your orders, kid : 
tell me what you put on first.” 

‘‘ Oh, how funny you are ! ” said Jerry. 

He burst into a merry laugh, the sort of laugh 
he had often given at the farm when Mrs. Cole 
amused him with some homely tale. It suddenly 
entered his mind that Colonel Digby in some ways 
resembled Mrs. Cole. He was a very grand man 
of course : he was one of the King’s soldiers. 
Nevertheless, his eyes had a good-humoured 
gleam in them which he had seen in Mrs. Cole’s 
face when she was about to give him a treat. 

Jerry hopped about his room, therefore, and 
chose somewhat incongruous garments, and finally 
managed with the Colonel’s aid to return to the 
sitting-room. Here, to his great astonishment, a 
dainty meal was served. The waiter first ap- 


A CHAMPAGNE SUPPER 


55 

peared with a table. On the table was spread a 
white cloth : on the top of the cloth were laid 
knives and forks, spoons, plates, glasses, all the 
things which are the usual accessories required for 
a sumptuous meal. Then sweetmeats of various 
sorts and of wonderful lightness and delicacy 
graced the board. These were supplemented 
for the Colonel himself by sandwiches of fate-de- 
fote-graSy and very excellent dry champagne. 
The Colonel even induced Jerry to take a few 
sips of the champagne and to taste a little bit of 
one of the sandwiches. The wine made Jerry 
feel extremely merry, and he more and more con- 
sidered Colonel Digby a good comrade and the 
sort of person to whom little boys might speak. 

Oh, if only Colonel Digby had loved his father, 
how perfect the world would now have become ! 
Even, however, with the unalterable fact staring 
him in the face that the Colonel did not love 
Major Ramsey, the boy had an intensely good 
time. He told stories of his own life, and the 
Colonel told stories of his. Very innocent were 
Jerry’s tales, and in consequence very innocent 
were the worldly minded Colonel’s. There 
never surely was a more enthusiastic or delightful 
listener than the small boy with the grave eyes, 
the slightly flushed cheeks, the parted lips with 
their gleam of white teeth behind them, the little 
slender and graceful form. 

The man and the boy had an absolutely good 
time together^ and when the Colonel opened a 


S6 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

second bottle of champagne and gave Jerry a 
further sip, telling him that it was good for him 
and that manly boys always liked it, the little 
fellow pretended to enjoy the strong, exhilarat- 
ing beverage. Only afterwards, he suddenly felt 
quiet and sleepy, but intensely happy. 

By and by, the Colonel laid him on one of Mrs. 
Ramsey’s most luxurious sofas, put a silk rug over 
him, and then stood looking down at the small 
face. The Colonel drew himself to his full height 
as he gazed at the boy, and his arms were folded 
across his broad chest. The remnants of the 
feast which they had enjoyed so much together 
were still on the table. Presently, the door was 
opened and the waiter came in to clear away. 

Hush ! ” said Colonel Digby. “ Leave these 
things ; go. The boy is asleep.” 

The man tip-toed out of the room, and closed 
the door with a velvet touch. Jerry smiled in his 
dreams, but once or twice he frowned. He was 
following the Colonel then through a long and 
dangerous tiger hunt. Once he gave a hasty 
exclamation. He was living through that mar- 
vellous escape which Colonel Digby had gone 
through when he was stung by an adder and had 
to suck the wound himself. Then again Jerry 
smiled, for the Colonel was telling such a good 
story, and he was putting such gorgeous bits of 
colour into it, and Jerry was seeing life from a 
totally new standpoint. 

By and by, the little face of the sleeping boy 


A CHAMPAGNE SUPPER 


57 

became almost ecstatic in its expression, for the 
Colonel was telling him of that time when he had 
won the Victoria Cross. Yes ; Colonel Digby 
was a V. C. man. Jerry knew about V. C. men, 
and even to touch such a hero was an intense 
consolation to him. Jerry in his dreams could 
not help bursting into an excited “ Hurrah ! Oh, 
weren’t you splendid ! ” 

The words were shouted from the lips of the 
sleeping, dreaming boy, and Colonel Digby, look- 
ing on, murmured, under his breath : 

“ Jove ! So this is her son, and he is Jove ! 

don’t I hate her just ! ” 

There was a frown on his soldierly brow 
and a firmness round his lips, which would have 
augured ill for Mrs. Ramsey could she have seen 
the Colonel’s face at that moment. But she was 
away enjoying herself ; and the hours passed until 
midnight chimed from the silvery tones of the 
pretty clock on the mantelpiece. The Colonel 
took out his watch. 

‘‘ I will wait until two o’clock, if necessary,” he 
thought. He went into Jerry’s bedroom, and 
taking a light, downy blanket, brought it back and 
laid it tenderly over the child, fearing that he 
might catch a chill in his sleep. 

Presently he sank himself into a chair facing 
the boy. He was lost in meditation, and it 
was clear from the expression of his features 
that his thoughts were not pleasant. By and 
by, it was more than evident that a dominant 


S8 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

thought of a very strong and over-powering 
nature was holding him in its sway. An idea had 
darted through his brain and he was thinking it 
over from every possible point of view. 

“ Jove 1 ” he said aloud at last. ‘‘ Pll do it. 
The boy is worth it, if she is not. I will teach 
her how to behave to Ramsey’s son.” 

Just then, there was the swishy noise of light dra- 
peries in the passage outside. The door of the room 
was flung open, and a beautifully dressed woman, 
lovely as art and nature combined could make her, 
with the faintest touch of mourning in her cos- 
tume, with a flush on her cheeks and the light of 
gratified vanity in her eyes, entered the room. 
She was followed by a slim girl in white. 

Mrs. Ramsey came in prepared to fling herself 
on the couch where Jerry was sleeping. She 
made a noise, inadvertently knocking against a 
chair. Then she uttered a loud exclamation. 
There was a foreign element surely in the room ; 
a table which did not belong to it, a white cloth 
on the table — bottles, glasses, plates, the remains 
of a meal. She looked past the table, her violet- 
blue eyes darkening until they seemed almost 
black. 

She saw a man standing very upright. He had 
turned to face her. He had folded his arms 
again. He did not come a step towards her, but 
remained for the first moment perfectly mute, 
as though carved in stone. She looked beyond 
the man and saw the child, who had opened 


A CHAMPAGNE SUPPER 


59 

great eyes and had raised himself on his elbow. 
The child’s face was white, and his lips were 
working. The man turned swiftly to the child, 
and said, Hush ! ” Then as swiftly he addressed 
the slender girl who had followed the woman 
into the room. 

“ Go to bed, Alabel : I will speak to you 
another time,” he said. 

Mabel turned immediately and fled. 

“ May I ask. Colonel Digby,” said Mrs. Ram- 
sey then, raising her voice, which was choked 
with anger, ‘‘ may I inquire what is the meaning 
of this ? How dared you take possession of my 
room ? and what have you done to my ” — she 
paused — ‘‘ son ? ” 

As she uttered these words, her eyes fell 
on Jerry. The anger in her tones did not 
appeal to him in the least, and he was confused 
still by the champagne which had given him a 
slight headache, by the lateness of the hour, and 
by all the queer things which had happened. 
But then he saw, or thought he saw, a look of 
pain in his mother’s eyes, and in one instant a sort 
of fury possessed him. He sprang from his sofa, 
ran towards her, flung his arms round her slim 
waist and said in a protecting tone : 

“ I am to take care of you : I am father’s boy : 
and you are my mother. Don’t be a bit fright- 
ened.” 

“ Go to bed, child,” said the woman. 

She unloosed the clinging arms with such 


6o THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

roughness that the boy stumbled and would have 
fallen if the Colonel had not caught him. 

‘‘ Steady ! little lad,” he said : “ steady. 

Listen to me, Cecilia. I came here to see you. I 
found the boy, not you. You knew that I was 
coming. You left no message : you went out. 
It did not occur to you that I should see this — 
little gentleman. I have discovered, through no 
words of his, in what sort of fashion you treat 
Major Ramsey’s son, and yours. I can stand 
much, Cecilia, but not that. Boy, stay quiet : 
you can listen or not as you please, but you 
remain in this room as witness. Cecilia, I came 
here to-night to give you back your freedom. You 
know what you promised me on board the Egypt. 
I came to-night to give you back your promise, 
believing that you wished it to be so, and in any 
case being firmly convinced that you and I could 
never find happiness together. But I have wit- 
nessed a sight to-night, and heard a tale and per- 
ceived a story which alters my resolve. I gave 
Ramsey many cruel thoughts during his life — 
I did what lay in my power to injure him, but 
I vow before God that I will be good to his son. 
I do not give you back your freedom. You will 
many me and I will be as a father to his boy.” 


CHAPTER VI 


Ditch water 

TERRY was rather feverish the next day, so 
^ much so that a doctor had to be sent for. 
The first thing the doctor ordered was a change 
of rooms for the boy. He and Mabel, therefore, 
changed bedrooms. Mabel said she did not mind 
in the least, that she never went to bed until 
the sun had set for long hours, and that in con- 
sequence she almost preferred Jerry’s room to 
her own. 

Mabel’s room was, comparatively speaking, 
spacious, and the child was not too hot in it. Mabel 
was very good to him. She sat with him during 
the greater part of the next day. Her eyes were 
red as though she had been crying, but she was 
outwardly cheerful. She brought in some new 
books and began to read to him. He had never 
heard of the Arabian Nights^ and was much 
fascinated by these stories of Eastern romance. 

He had a queer feeling about his head and about 
his hip, and the events of the previous night seemed 
as far removed as though they were a dream. 

The next day he was better, but the doctor 
61 


62 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

would not allow him up. The doctor came 
every day at about the same hour and examined 
the child very thoroughly. Finally, he ordered 
the boy out of London to the seaside. Mabel 
was to go with him, and so was Zaidee. His 
mother was not going. He hardly saw his 
mother. She came occasonally into the room but 
always seemed restless and impatient. She said 
so often that little boys must be seen and not 
heard that he was almost afraid to open his lips 
in her presence. 

He never heard a word about Colonel Digby 
and really began to imagine that the adventure 
of the Colonel was a wonderful, glorious dream, 
which ended in something horrible, that he failed 
to understand, and at last he made up his mind 
not to believe in it. 

Ten days after the Colonel’s visit, Jerry, Mabel 
and Zaidee went to Folkestone. They had nice 
lodgings on the Leas, and Jerry got quickly better. 
Mabel enjoyed herself immensely at Folkestone, 
and Jerry got back his colour, and his little hands 
were brown once more. He loved to dig on the 
beach, and Mabel — no longer in her grand London 
frocks but wearing a short pink dress of print 
which only reached her ankles and a pink washing 
hat Kb match — ^was almost as much a child as 
Jerry himself. She was, to all appearance, in- 
tensely happy, and went on reading 7 he Arabian 
Nights aloud to the boy, who asked innumerable 
questions which she could not answer ; for there 


JITCHWATER 


63 

was always something far off and deep in Jerry’s 
remarks, impossible for a very amiable, but com- 
monplace, girl like Mabel Laurence, to understand. 
The boy knew vaguely that she did not under- 
stand, but he was not unhappy about her, or any 
one else, just then. 

One day there came a letter. It arrived at 
breakfast time. It was addressed to Miss Mabel 
Laurence, and Jerry saw at once that it was in 
his mother’s big sprawling handwriting. There 
had been hardly any letters since the children 
had arrived at Folkestone. 

Jerry was first in the breakfast room that 
morning, and when he saw the letter lying by the 
side of Mabel’s plate, he gave a little sigh. Let- 
ters did not matter at all now to him. It seemed 
a sad pity. If only people could send letters from 
Heaven, how lovely life would be ! 

He was standing pensive in his pretty white 
duck washing suit when Mabel entered the room. 
She caught up the letter at once, turned crimson, 
and then very pale. Jerry stared into her face. 

“ It is from mother,” he said : “ from my 
own mother. Do you feel it as much as all that, 
Mabel ? ” 

“ Feel what ? ” said Mabel, almost crossly, 
for at that moment she could scarcely endure 
the expression in Jerry’s eyes. 

“ Why, getting her letter. I used to go all 
choky and queer when father’s letters came, and 
my heart used to go pit-a-pat, and I didn’t want 


64 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

to eat anything : but oh ! I was glad. They can’t 
write in Heaven, can they, Mabel ? It seems a 
pity they should have forgotten, doesn’t it, 
Mabel ? ” 

“ Oh, do eat your breakfast, Jerry boy ! ” said 
Mabel. “ I believe I have got a headache myself.” 

‘‘ Won’t you read mother’s letter ? ” said the 
boy. 

“ No, not now : don’t worry me.” 

I am sorry,” said Jerry. 

He seated himself a little away from Mabel. 
He reflected that he had been selfish and thought- 
less. Of course he wanted to hear something 
about his mother. In her absence — or rather, 
in his absence from her — ^he was beginning to 
invest her with some of his old fanciful dreams. 
It had been too much for his darling mother to 
see him. It had reminded her too vividly of his 
beloved father. But the next time they met, 
they would have a long talk about him. Jerry 
felt that he would not greatly mind if his mother 
cried a little when she spoke of his father. 

“ Women are meant to cry,” he thought. 
“ Mabel cries sometimes — I know it, ’cause her 
eyes are red now and then. I wouldn’t speak of it 
for the world to her. Men never cry — but women, 
when they cry, men ought to comfort them. I 
will comfort my own mother when she cries.” 

He was thinking these thoughts now, and his 
little face was very solemn and quite old in its 
expression for so young a boy, when suddenly, 


DITCHWATER 


6S 

raising his head, he perceived that Mabel had left 
the room. Why had he not noticed when she 
went away ? What was to be done ? He had 
quite expected her to read his mother’s letter 
aloud to him — that is, after she had got rid of her 
headache. But she had gone away, and the 
letter had gone with her. What did it mean ? 

Just then, the door was opened and Zaidee — 
whom Jerry never could quite like, although he 
did his best to do so — came in. 

“ Have you finished your breakfast, Master 
Fitz.” 

“ Yes,” replied Jerry. 

“ Then you are to come out with me. We 
will sit in one of the shelters on the Leas. We 
needn’t go to the shore this morning. 

“ But it’s a beautiful morning ! ” said Jerry ; 
‘‘ and the tide is low. Mabel and I were planning 
that we would build such a castle on the sands. 
Isn’t Mabel coming, Zaidee ? ” 

“Miss Laurence is not going out, and little boys 
shouldn’t ask such a lot of questions. Now come 
along ; and make no fuss. I am sure I’m sick 
of the place ! It isn’t as if it was the sea- 
son.” 

Jerry with a faint sigh complied. They went 
out into the hot sunshine : they reached the 
shelter and sat down. Zaidee looked cross. 
She did not take the slightest notice of Jerry. 
After a time, he sidled up close to her. 

“ Isn’t the sea lovely ? ” he said. 


66 THE COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

The sea ? ” she answered. ‘‘ No, I don’t 
think so. If you had weak eyes like mine, Master 
Fitz, you wouldn’t be bothered looking at the 
sea ; and if you had watched it as many scores of 
time as I have, you’d be about sick of it.” 

“Oh, I could never be that!” said Jerry. “I 
do love the sea so ’normous much I ” 

“ Well then, go on loving it — I am sure I 
don’t care.” 

Jerry suppressed a sigh. He reflected that 
after all it was his duty to make things pleasant for 
Zaidee and not to think of his castle on the shore 
and the pleasant morning which he had antici- 
pated in Mabel’s company. 

“ Zaidee,” he said, speaking in a low tone. “ I 
am so awful sorry you are bothered by the sea ; 
but isn’t the grass here pretty ? ” 

“ I never look at those sort of things,” said 
Zaidee. 

“ What sort of things do you like looking at, 
Zaidee ? ” 

“ Oh, men and women ; they’re my fancy.” 

“ Well, there are lots about,” said Jerry. 
“ Aren’t there, Zaidee ? ” 

“ ’Taint the season,” said Zaidee. 

This remark puzzled Jerry immensely. 

“ Is everything different then ? ” he said. 

“ Different, Master Fitz ? I should think so : 
everything depends on the season. In the season 
a place is lovely : out of the season, it’s ditch- 
water.” 


DITCHWATER 67 

Ditchwater ? ” remarked Jerry, much, puz- 
zled. 

‘‘ Yes,” said the maid : ditchwater. It’s 

the season in London now, and I call it a burning 
shame — that I do ! ” 

“ What is, Zaidee ? ” 

That I am here looking after you ; and Miss 
Mabel — it’s mighty cruel on Miss Mabel. She 
ought to be going to her parties and her fun 
instead of being moped up here with nothing 
but them dull sea waves and this parched grass 
and that rowdy crowd to look at.” 

“ I don’t understand,” said Jerry. 

‘‘No more you do,” remarked Zaidee. “ You 
are just a selfish little boy — no end of trouble 
you’ll be. I’m sure my poor mistress must rue 
the day she ever come back to find you a-waiting 
for her. Lame, too — a cripple, no less.” 

“ Don’t ! ” said Jerry. He said the words 
with immense dignity. He was stung to the 
quick. He was so severely hurt that all other 
pain seemed as nothing in comparison. But he 
just felt that he must hold on to his dignity : 
for his father’s sake he must do that. He passed 
his little hand across his brow and stood 
up. 

“ I don’t want you to speak to me any more,” 
he said ; and he turned slowly and, taking up his 
crutch, hobbled back towards the lodgings. 

Zaidee was in the worst of tempers. Every- 
thing was going “ contrairy ” as she expressed 


68 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

it. She had looked forward immensely to a time 
in the London hotel. She was a very elderly 
maid, but she had not given up those hopes dear 
to women. She might yet find a man to admire 
her and to marry her. Adolphe was weak and 
handsome, and she adored Adolphe. 

Then all of a sudden there came that night 
when she had gone out without leave. Her mis- 
tress had blamed her most severely for having 
done so. Had Zaidee been at home she might 
have interviewed the Colonel, and the Colonel 
would not have seen Jerry, and there would not 
have been a champagne supper, and there would 
not have been — oh, other things which Mrs. 
Ramsey could not talk about. 

Nevertheless, Zaidee knew well that these 
things were of immense and even awful portent, 
and that suddenly, quite suddenly, they snapped 
her season in town in two. She was whisked off 
with Miss Mabel — poor, pretty Miss Mabel — to 
the dull, sad seaside in order to get a stupid, 
fanciful little lame boy out of the way. Adolphe 
would console himself with some one else. Zaidee’s 
faded charms and elegant manners would be forgot- 
ten. No wonder she was cross. She was not confided 
in, either, and although she guessed a vast lot, she 
was absolutely certain of nothing. It behoved 
her, however, to keep her place ; for her place 
meant very liberal wages, a comfortable time, on 
the whole, and her mistress’ cast-off garments. 
She had not meant, therefore, to lose her temper 


DITCHWATER 69 

with Jerry. Nevertheless, she had spoken to him 
in a very intemperate and even cruel manner. 

She stood up and left the shelter now and 
watched the boy as, with the aid of his crutch, 
which he did not use very much, only slightly, 
he went back to the house. She said to herself : 

“ I can’t and won’t follow the tiresome little 
brat. I have put my foot in it, of course, but I 
don’t care. There is something brewing : it has 
something to do with my mistress and the Colonel. 
I wonder, I do wonder, what it all means. I’d 
be in the thick of it but for that tiresome child. 
They ought to send him to a hospital — that’s 
what they ought to do, or at least they ought 
to have a hospital nurse to see to him. But my 
mistress is so thoughtless ; provided she has 
her own fun, she don’t think of others. Much 
feeling she has for poor Zaidee. She likes her 
own flirtations, but she doesn’t care how many 
times my heart is disappointed. Adolphe would 
have suited me very well. With my savings, 
which are considerable, and his good looks, we 
might have started a small hotel on our own 
account. I was thinking of gently suggesting 
it to him. But there, there ! Everything is up 
now. Well, the boy is safe in his lodgings, no 
fear of that : so I’ll sit down and pretend to 
look at that view which he admires so much. 
Horrid I I call it.” 

A nursemaid with a troop of children, all 
beautifully dressed, came and shared Zaidee's 


70 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

shelter. The nurse, for want of something else 
to do, entered into conversation with the woman ; 
and Zaidee, for want of something else to do, 
replied. They were soon deep in mutual con- 
fidences, and Jerry and his hurt feelings were 
forgotten. 

Meanwhile a little boy with a sadly bruised heart 
and an aching body got back to the lodging house. 
It was a very pleasant house, and in the season 
the landlady asked a great price for her apart- 
ments. She was a round-faced, black-eyed, good- 
humoured woman, and having plenty of leisure 
just now — for Mabel, Jerry and Zaidee were her 
only lodgers — ^happened to be standing in the 
hall when the boy swung open the door and 
entered. 

Mrs. Smiles had taken a fancy to Jerry. As a 
matter of fact, most women did. Those dog- 
like eyes of his went straight to most women’s 
hearts. He was very polite, too, and always 
anxious, as he expressed it, to oblige. But now 
there was a change over the child. His face was 
ghastly white ; but that was not all. Its sweet, 
angelic expression had altered. It looked fierce, 
angry, rebellious. It had changed in a few min- 
utes almost into the face of a man. Mrs. Smiles 
said afterwards that she felt a qualm going right 
through her as she watched the child. 

‘‘ Is he took for death ? ” she murmured to 
herself ; “ or is he frightened out of his wits, or 
what has gone wrong ? ” She called out : “ Are 


DITCHWATER 


71 

you tired, little master ? ” But Jerry did not 
even reply. He hobbled upstairs. 

With his lameness, going upstairs was always a 
difficulty, and Mrs Smiles ran to help him. 

‘‘ No, don’t : I’d rather not,” he said, speaking 
with that queer, frozen sort of dignity which 
made him at once so old and so unapproachable. 

He reached the drawing-room floor. The draw- 
ing-room was empty. There was a lovely view 
of the sea from the drawing-room, the windows 
of which stood open. Mabel had made the room 
pretty with flowers, and up to this moment 
Jerry had loved it. There was the back drawing- 
room, where they had meals, and the front 
drawing-room which he and Mabel so enjoyed, 
where they sat and talked and Mabel read to him, 
and he made houses with cards or amused himself 
with his favourite drawing, or sometimes sat quite 
still with his hands before him, listening and 
dreaming and wondering. 

The swish, swish of the sea was always in his 
ears as he sat in that room, and there was the 
wonderful light which came over the sea at even- 
tide : and sometimes on clear days he could see 
the coast of France lying golden across the water. 

He had loved this drawing-room, up to the 
present. Now he hated it. He hated every- 
thing in the world. All his ideas with regard to 
life had become in a moment topsy-turvy. What 
had been good was bad. What had been right 
was wrong. Zaidee had opened his eyes. He 


72 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

was not loved nor a loving little boy. He loved no 
one, and no one loved him. It was a good thing, 
perhaps, that his father had died fighting for the 
King in a distant country ; for if his father had 
come home he, too, might have turned against 
him. It was not likely that a brave soldier would 
love a cripple. A cripple — that was it ; one of the 
useless people. Jerry had never realized it before, 
but it seemed to him now that with Zaidee’s 
words an intense light had been brought to bear 
upon his position, and he knew what he was and 
what people thought of him. 

‘‘ Poor mother ! ” he said to himself. ‘‘ No 
wonder she so often said, ‘ Little boys must be 
seen and not heard.’ No wonder she sent me 
away from her ; but she need not have sent poor 
Mabel.” 

He had never in all his life greater difficulty 
than he had now in keeping back his tears. But 
he did keep them back. It was essential to his 
manhood, even though he was a cripple, to con- 
trol himself. He had an extraordinary power of 
will for so young a child, and he would not let 
weakness conquer him to the abasing point of 
shedding tears. But he was so strung up, and in 
such intense and sorrowful pain that he could not 
sit still long in the pretty drawing-room. His 
dignity required that he should speak out once for 
all while he had courage. So he crossed the room, 
and sounded the bell. 

Presently, the parlourmaid appeared. She 


DITCHWATER 


73 


was prettily dressed and was a very nice girl, 
and adored Jerry. She came in eagerly. She 
brought with her a glass of milk and some sweet 
biscuits. 

“ Were you ringing for your lunch, Master 
Ramsey ? ” 

“ No, thank you,” said Jerry. ‘‘ You needn’t 
leave the milk, Fanny, nor the biscuits : I am not 
hungry. But I want to see Miss Mabel. Would 
you perhaps be so very kind, Fanny, as to go up to 
her room and say that Master Ramsey wants to see 
her. Please say that it’s quite ’portant, Fanny, 
and that I’d be awful obliged if she’d be quick.” 

He do look strange,” thought Fanny, who had 
already been made acquainted with this fact by 
Mrs. Smiles. 

She left the biscuits and milk, as though she had 
forgotten them, on the table, and hurried from 
the room. She ran up to Mabel’s room and 
knocked at the door. Mabel said, ‘‘ Who is it ? ” 
Mabel’s tone was rather cross. 

‘‘ It’s Master Ramsey, Miss Laurence — he’s in 
the drawing-room all alone and he don’t look well. 
He said he wanted to see you and would be glad 
if you would go to him soon.” 

“ Oh,” said Mabel from the other side of the 
locked door. “ Tell him I’ll come immediately 
she continued. 

The girl went away and informed Jerry of the 
fact. Jerry merely nodded his head. He could 
not speak. 


74 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Mabel came down in a minute or two. She 
was at once glad and sorry that Jerry had sum- 
moned her. She was not at all frightened about 
him. She was so absorbed in the task which to 
her was a very terrible one and which she was 
obliged to undertake, that she had no thoughts, 
or time to reflect on Fanny’s words. But the 
moment she looked at the boy, the whole expres- 
sion of her gentle kind little face altered. 

“ Why, Jerry boy ! Jerry boy,” she said. 

She shut the door quietly and came up to him 
with a rapid movement. She opened her sisterly 
arms as though she would embrace him. But he 
started away, his lips quivering just a little. 

“ Please don’t be too kind to me, Mabel. I 
have got something to say, and I want to say it as 
soon as possible.” 

“ Well, at least sit down,” said Mabel, trying to 
take his hand, for she was indeed now greatly 
puzzled and alarmed at his manner. 

But Jerry stood. “ It is better for me to stand,” 
he said. “ You can sit : you ought not to tire 
yourself. I have been awful selfish. I didn’t 
know — that is the reason. I took you away from 
the Season. I didn’t know nothing about it. 
Everything depends on Season. It’s Ditch- 
water, except when it’s Season. I am awful 
sorry ! You must go back at once — you and 
Zaidee. Zaidee’s terrible unhappy : she doesn’t 
like the sea, nor the lovely green grass, and she calls 
the people, who looked so very nice to me, a rowdy 


DITCHWATER 


75 

crowd. It’s ’cause it isn’t Season here. It’s 
Ditchwater ; and I am the cause. I am only a 
cripple boy : I’ll never be any good : I’ll be lame 
as long as I live. It’s a bit hard for me to under- 
stand ; but I am not going to be selfish about it. 
I want you and Zaidee to go straight back to 
Season. She says it’s a shame that I should have 

taken you both away, and that I am ” 

Oh, those tears ! They must not, they should 
not come. “ I am only a little, young boy ! ” he 
said, pleadingly. “ But I’ll understand better 
next time. I’ll never be so awful selfish any more. 
Poor mother ! I am so sorry — very sorry— for 
mother. I used to puzzle why — why — she was 
different from what I sort of ’spected, but Zaidee 
has made it plain to me. If father were not in 
Heaven, perhaps he’d be dis’pointed too. He 
never said nothing in his letters — I have nine of 
them you know — ’bout my being cripple ; he 
only talked — about — oh, Mabel ! I can’t tell 
you what he talked about ! Perhaps in Heaven 
I won’t be a cripple. Do you think that, Mabel ? 
Do you think that I may hope that much ? It 
would be a ^mendous help to me if I could ! I 
think I could bear anything but father’s being 
dis’pointed when he sees me. I ’spec’ they cure 
you up quick in Heaven, don’t they, Mabel ? ” 
“ I can’t imagine what you are talking about,” 
said Mabel, when the boy had come to a sudden 
pause and had looked at her with a world of 
pathos in those sorrowful and lovely eyes of his. 


76 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Who has been saying nasty things to you ? Is 
it that cross, grumpy old Zaidee ? ” 

“ Never mind,” said Jerry, who felt all of a 
sudden a sense of relief in Mabel’s manner. 
“ You are just lovely, Mabel ; to have that sweet 
tone in your voice to me. But I know the truth 
now. I know what I am — at last. It is much 
better to know, isn’t it f And what I want 
is this ” 

Here he went close to the girl and laid his hand 
on her arm. She did not venture to yield to the 
impulse she had to fold him up in her close 
embrace, for there was still that new-born and 
amazing dignity about him. 

‘‘ What I want is for you and Zaidee to go 
back in the next train to Season, and leave me 
here with Mrs. Smiles. She is quite a nice 
woman, and as I am no relation of hers she won’t 
mind my being a bit lame. I will try hard not to 
show it. When I draw myself up tight and keep 
repeating to myself, ‘ Pain’s nothing at all. 
Brave men like pain,’ then I am hardly lame, am 
I ? I’ll do that when I am near Mrs. Smiles, 
and she can send me up my meals here, and you 
might leave me the book about the ‘ Forty 
Thieves.’ I could go on reading it. That is 
what I wanted to say : that’s ’bout all, I think.’ 

He sank on the sofa. He had delivered his 
soul. There were drops of moisture on his little 
forehead. Mabel stared hard at him. At last 
she spoke* 


DITCHWATER 


77 

‘‘ May I touch you, Jerry boy ? ’’ she said then ; 
‘‘ or are you quite too wonderful ? ’’ 

“ Too wonderful ? ” he repeated vaguely. 
“ A cripple — that means a lame boy — that is, a 
boy that you sort of — pity ; that’s what some 
folks do : or you sort of — hate ; that’s what some 
folks do.” 

Mabel suddenly altered her manner. 

“Come, Jerry,” she said; “you have heard some 
nasty things from Zaidee, who is about as horrid 
and detestable a woman as I know. She is selfish 
to her heart’s core, and I cannot imagine why 
Aunt Cecilia keeps her. I suppose it’s because 
she dresses Aunt Cecilia’s hair rather well, and 
knows where and how to put the powder on. Oh, 
but she is a horror ! Don’t you for a single 
moment fret about what Zaidee says. I am 
sorry, my Jerry boy, that I didn’t go out with 
you this morning. But I was feeling that I 
couldn’t.” 

“ ’Cause of your headache ? ” said Jerry. 
“ You are beautiful, Mabel ; you are wonderful : 
what a mother you will be some day ! ” 

“ If ever,” said Mabel, “ I could hope to have 
a son like you, he might teach me how to be a 
mother. But now, Jerry, I am going to be very 
honest and downright and plain. I want you to 
forget every single word Zaidee has said to you 
— the horror ! she will hear of it from me — I 
want you to understand that although you are 
lame, the doctor thinks that with care he may cure 


78 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

you ; and that even though you are lame, or 
perhaps on account of it, you are quite the darling- 
est little boy I have ever, ever seen, with the 
sweetest, dearest face, and the most beautiful, 
courteous, gentlemanly manners, and with the 
noblest heart.” 

“ Don’t,” said Jerry. He made a dash for his 
handkerchief. If he cried, he was lost. Stop ! ” 
he said again. 

He struggled to his feet and without the aid of 
his crutch went to the window. The pain in his 
hip helped to give him self-control and the 
sweet fresh breeze from the sea brought him 
courage. When he turned round again the hard 
look had left his face. He went up to Mabel and 
kissed her. 

“ It is you that are beautiful,” he said ; it is 
you that are wonderful. I can never forget 
what she said, and it’s only right I should know — 
but I can bear things better now.” 

Mabel saw, however, that he was on the eve of 
breaking down. She went hastily and, bringing 
over his milk, made him drink it, and talked in a 
light and cheerful tone, trying to forget that news 
which she must impart to him. After a time, he 
was better, and when she had forced him clearly 
to understand that she hated Seasons and liked 
Ditchwater fifty thousand times better, and that 
nothing in all the world could give her greater 
distress than going back to Season, he learned 
in a sort of fashion to believe her. 


DITCHWATER 


79 

That’s the truth,” she said, “ and I don’t tell 
lies. So you will have just to make up your mind 
that that horrid Zaidee is wrong and that I am 
right. I only wish with all my heart that I could 
send Zaidee back to her precious season and that 
you and I could be alone.” 

“ Couldn’t we ? ” said Jerry, with his most 
coaxing air. 

“ No, auntie wouldn’t like it. Zaidee means 
Propriety. Auntie is very particular about some 
sorts of propriety.” 

What is propriety ? ” asked Jerry. 

‘‘ I won’t tell you to-day : it would take too 
long.” 

The boy was nestling now against her arm. 

“ You are so comforting ! ” he said ; and he 
raised her hand and kissed it. 

They sat quite still for a space. Then Mabel 
said, abruptly : 

“ Jerry, are you better ? ” 

“ I am quite well, thank you, Mabel. It is all 
on account of you, Mabel.” 

‘‘ I have something I want to say to you, Jerry 
boy : but only if you can bear it.” 

“ Bear it ? ” he said, sitting upright and looking 
her full in the face. ‘‘ Don’t you think I can ? 
My father won the V. C., and I am his boy. 
That other man. Colonel Digby, is a V. C. 
man, too. I was forgetting about him. I like 
him : I am only sorry that he didn’t love 
father.” 


8o THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Jerry,” said Mabel ; it is about Colonel 
Digby I want to speak to you.” 

Jerry’s eyes sparkled. 

“ Oh, he was so splendid that time with the 
tiger ! ” he said. “ If he hadn’t just at that very 
minute raised his gun — and — why, what is it, 
Mabel ? ” 

“ It’s about him I want to speak and — and — 
your mother. They were married yesterday.” 

Jerry looked in a dull way at Mabel. 

“ He said something ’bout marrying — when — I 
had that sort of half dream on that wonderful 
night,” said the boy. ‘‘ What does it mean ? I 
— don’t understand.” 

“ He is your father in future.” 

These words struck home. Jerry sprang to his 
feet with a crimson face. 

You — Mabel — I didn’t think you’d tell 
lies ! ” 

“ He is not your real father, of course, but he is 
your mother’s husband. They were married 
yesterday, and they want us to go to them to 
Colonel Digby’s house on the borders of Wales on 
Monday. There : why, you take it well. Most 
boys feeling as you would ” 

‘‘ Don’t,” said Jerry. “ I am not like most 
boys. I will go av/ay to my room, I think, for a 
little.” 


CHAPTER VII 


The Rose Garden 

"jVTOBODY ever knew exactly what happened 
^ in Jerry’s room. It was a very nice, cool 
room facing some gardens, with pleasant green- 
sward in the middle and shrubs all round. There 
were children as young as Jerry playing in the 
gardens. They were shouting to one another, 
and running fast. Some of them were even 
younger ; some could only toddle, but they 
were none of them lame. He watched them 
and felt this fact, but at the same time not quite 
comprehending it. 

When he joined Mabel at lunch, he looked 
much as usual. He ate quite a good meal ; and 
the extremely old, even aged look had left his 
face. 

After lunch, he and Mabel went out together 
right down on to the beach. They found a 
sheltered corner with their backs to a cliff, and 
Mabel read aloud, and the boy listened. They 
neither of them said a single word with regard 
to the information which Zaidee had given Jerry, 
nor to the still graver information which Mabel 
herself had imparted. 


81 


6 


82 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

These things happened on Thursday. Friday 
passed, Saturday passed in the same manner. 
Jerry and Mabel were together almost the whole 
time. Zaidee looked at once cross, slightly repent- 
ant and excited. She had heard the news in a 
letter which was written by her mistress. Her 
time of solitude was therefore over, and she 
would meet Adolphe once more in the beautiful 
country house which belonged to Colonel Digby. 
Mrs. Digby, the bride, had given Zaidee direc- 
tions with regard to new styles of hair- 
dressing and certain cosmetics necessary for her 
toilet. Zaidee, in short, felt that she was rein- 
stated. In future, she would have nothing to 
do with that little Jerry ; as this was the case, 
and she felt certain that her position was assured, 
and that her mistress would never dare to part 
with so valuable a maid, the maid who possessed 
secrets which could keep old age at bay, she need 
not fidget any longer about a small crippled boy. 

So she left Jerry, without any compunction, 
to MabePs care, and they had, outwardly at least, 
a very good time. 

Sunday was a beautiful day. The sea sparkled 
and shone in the most captivating manner. The 
sky was clear and had that deep blue which 
almost resembled the skies in France. The 
breeze came from the south and was very soft, 
feeling like velvet against the cheek. 

Notwithstanding the fact that it was not the 
season, there were crowds of people walking about 


THE ROSE GARDEN 


83 


on the Leas in holiday attire. But Jerry and 
Mabel did not mix with the crowd. They sat 
in a bay window of the drawing-room and looked 
out, not speaking a great deal, but keeping close 
to each other. 

The fact is, they both felt a little frightened. 
The morrow was so near now, and it meant so 
much, so very much to them both. For Mabel 
was an orphan and dependent on her aunt, and 
she could not possibly guess all that her aunt’s 
sudden marriage might mean to her. 

In the evening, the pair went out. The sea 
was like glass now, almost without a ripple. 
Mabel said suddenly : 

“ It is like that in Heaven.” 

When she uttered these words, a light sprang 
into Jerry’s eyes. 

‘‘ Does my father see it all beautiful as we see 
it now ? ” he asked. 

“ Yes,” said Mabel ; I expect so.” 

‘‘ But aren’t you sure, Mabel ? ” 

“ I expect so,” said Mabel again. ‘‘ I don’t 
know much about Heaven, Jerry boy.” 

But it’s all wrote in the Bible,” said Jerry. 
“ You have but to read it, you know. Mrs. Fitz- 
gerald, the beautiful mother lady I used to know 
in the country, has told me about it over and 
over. A sea of glass : yes, those were the words. 
A sea of glass mingled with fire.” 

“ That’s like the sunset,” said Mabel ; and then 
she pointed away in the direction of the west, 


84 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

where the sun was shining in the most marvellous, 
radiant, every-colour sort of fashion. 

‘‘ I am glad I have seen the sea like this,” said 
Jerry. 

Then Mabel clasped his hand and held it tight, 
and they went back slowly towards the house. 

When they got there, Zaidee met them. 

‘‘ I have packed your things, Miss Laurence,” 
she said ; “ and I have packed your things, sir.” 
Here she turned to the boy. We’ll have to 
start not later than nine to-morrow morn- 
ing. 

She went away after she had uttered these 
words. When she had gone, Mabel went close 
to Jerry and took both his hands in hers. 

“ Little comrade,” she said, ‘‘ my dear Jerry 
boy ; whatever happens to-morrow, you and I 
will always be friends.” 

Yes,” said Jerry, ‘‘ we will always be that. 
But may I say a thing to you, Mabel ? ” 

‘‘ Anything you like,” said Mabel. 

‘‘ Well, it’s this. You said he — Colonel Digby 
— he — was my — father.” 

“ Not really, of course,” said Mabel, speaking 
very quickly. 

“ That is it ? ” said Jerry. ‘‘ Not really— you 
are sure it is not really ? ” 

‘‘ No, it cannot be,” said Mabel. 

“ Then why did you say it ? ” 

‘‘ Because,” said Mabel, ‘‘ being married to 
your mother, people will call him your father.” 


THE ROSE GARDEN 85 

Jerry immediately put on his lofty, stand-off 
sort of air. 

“ They may call it him if they like,” he said. 

Calling a person a thing doesn’t make the person 
that thing ; does it, Mabel ? ” 

‘‘ Of course not,” said Mabel. 

It comes back to me,” said Jerry, ‘‘ that 
wonderful night, when we had frothy sort 
of wine to drink, and — he told me about the 
tiger — and — and — the snake — and — other, 
things. He was awful kind, you know, Mabel. 
He didn’t seem to mind that I was a cripple. I 
had my blue silk pyjamas on when he first saw 
me, and even that he didn’t mind — not really, I 
mean. He was a true gentleman, Mabel. ’Course 
he was, being one of the King’s soldiers like my 
own father. But he said — I heard him say it, 
and he looked oh ! so angry — ‘ I will be a father 
to him.’ But he can’t, can he, Mabel ? ” 

‘‘ No, of course not,” said Mabel. 

“ It’s very puzzling,” said Jerry, isn’t it ? ” 
He knit his brow. 

It is,” answered Mabel, with alacrity. It 
is so puzzling, Jerry boy, that I can’t understand 
it my own self.” 

“ Then I am glad,” said Jerry. We’ll keep 
close to each other, you and me, ’cause we neither 
of us understand.” 

It was late the next evening when Mabel, 
Jerry, and Zaidee arrived at Courtlands, the 
beautiful place which was the property of Colonel 


86 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Dig by. It was situated on the borders of Wales 
and not very far from Tintern Abbey. They 
arrived at Courtlands in the middle of June, just 
when the trees were in full leaf, and the lawns 
were smooth as velvet and the flowers bloomed 
as only flowers will bloom in a great country 
place in that month of all months. 

There were roses everywhere : roses climbing 
round archways, roses clinging to the old house, 
roses peeping in at the windows, standard roses 
in beds, roses twining up the bare branches of 
certain trees. The scent of the roses was in the 
air. As the carriage brought the children down 
the long avenue — Zaidee was following later on 
in the omnibus — Mabel sniffed the rose-laden air 
with a sense of delight. 

“ Why, this is just as good as the sea, isn’t 
it ? ” she said. 

Jerry made no response. He was deadly tired, 
for the journey from London to Wales^ — they 
had to come up to London first, where Zaidee 
executed her mistress’ commissions — had tired 
him inexpressibly. He was not a good traveller 
just now ; the motion of the train brought on 
such bad pain in his hip. Of course he was not 
going to make a fuss ; but the pain had just gone 
beyond that point where he could bear it cheer- 
fully. He could bear it still ; surely there was no 
pain in aH God’s world which he could not bear, 
but he could scarcely be cheerful about it. It 
hurt him even to talk, he felt so tired. He was 


THE ROSE GARDEN 


87 


ashamed of himself, too. He was bitterly con- 
scious that he was only a poor cripple. He had a 
strong feeling in his little heart that it was very 
degrading to Major Ramsey’s little boy to be a 
cripple, and that in Heaven Major Ramsey must 
feel it. 

‘‘ The thought of his V.C. will comfort him,’^ 
thought the child, ‘‘ but not the thought of me, 
that could not comfort any one. Poor Mabel ! 
lam sorry for her. She is sweet, is Mabel ; and 
mother, I know mother is most beautiful, and most 
— most splendid, although she does wear travelling 
dust. I can’t think why, for it isn’t pretty ; and 
of course mother did right to marry Colonel 
Digby. But he isn’t father, that’s all ” 

“ Hallo, you young travellers ! ” called a 
cheerful voice, and the carraige was pulled up 
with a jerk and Jerry and Mabel had each a hand 
taken by the strong hands of Colonel Digby. 

He had come down the long avenue to meet 
them. He was wearing a Norfolk jacket and a 
peaked sort of soft cap and knee breeches, and 
his legs were very straight, and he looked taller 
and more soldierly than ever. Elis face was 
uncommonly red at this moment, but his eyes 
were— oh, so blue ! and so very kind. 

‘‘ You must be worn out, the pair of you,” he 
said. “ I know what it is to be in a stuffy railway 
carriage for long hours on a hot day like this. 
Well, Fitz : haven’t you a word to say to me ? 
Are the blue pyjamas still in existence ? Have 


88 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

you forgotten our champagne supper ? By the 
way, I have another tiger story to tell you.” 

Jerry, whose little face had been very dull, and 
the smarting sensation at the back of his eyes 
more severe than he had ever known it before, 
answered, in a choked voice : 

“ Fd like to hear it, please — afterwards.” 

Jove ! ” said the Colonel. 

It was his favourite exclamation ; he meant 
nothing by it ; it was his way of relieving his 
feelings. He guessed that the child was very 
nearly breaking down. He had a penetrating eye, 
a sympathetic heart, and a manly soul. He 
knew that the little fellow was suffering. Ilis 
suffering was not only physical, it was mental. 
He didn’t want him to break down at that mo- 
ment : it would make his position more un- 
pleasant with — with Mrs. Digby. Yes, she was 
Mrs. Digby now. She was waiting — somewhere 
round, she said. She wouldn’t come up the 
avenue to meet the children. He had suggested 
it to her, but she answered that the hill tired her 
to climb, and she didn’t see the sense of making a 
fuss. 

‘‘ They are quite unimportant little people,” 
she said, and I am not going to make myself ill 
on their account.” 

Then the Colonel had darted a queer look at 
her and started off alone. 

‘‘ Couldn’t you find room for me in here ? ” he 
said, pointing to an empty seat in the carriage. 


THE ROSE GARDEN 


89 

Mabel blushed, and said : “ Oh, certainly ! 
Jerry answered at once : 

We are rude not to think of it. Please — 
please hop in ! Would you like my seat best ? ” 

“ By no means : I prefer my back to the 
horses. Drive on, Jenkins.” 

The carriage rolled down the stately avenue. 
Mabel felt the scent of the roses more powerful 
than ever. Jerry sat quite quiet, his hand resting 
on his knee. At last they stopped before the 
front entrance. 

The Colonel lifted the boy very gently to the 
ground. 

“ I didn’t hurt you, did I ? ” he said. 

A little,” said Jerry. He longed with all his 
heart and soul to tell a lie at that moment : but 
it was against his creed. Then he added, quickly : 
‘‘ It don’t matter a bit.” 

“ Let us find your mother,” said the Colonel, 
and he held out his hand to Jerry. 

Jerry hesitated. There was something weigh- 
ing on his heart. He longed to speak but did not 
dare to. Mabel ran into the house. The Colonel 
and the boy were alone. The Colonel looked 
down with his red face and his kind eyes at the 
small, white face of the child. 

“ Now if I did what I’d like to do,” he said, 
“ I’d like to mount you on my shoulder.” 

‘‘ Oh, would you ? ” said Jerry, the ghost of a 
smile hovering round his lips. 

“ Of course I should, and believe me, I shall 


90 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

over and over and over again. But see here ; 
yonder is a seat, let’s take it ; we’ll smell the roses 
from there ; the fresh air will do you good. 
Your mother’s round, somewhere ; I expect we’ll 
see her in a minute or two, but you and I want to 
have a straight talk.” 

“ Oh — oh yes ! ” said Jerry. 

The Colonel found a luxurious seat and, with- 
out waiting for the boy’s permission, planted 
him on his knee. 

‘‘Now I call this real nice,” he said. 

“ It’s wonderful ! ” said Jerry, the tightness 
giving way round his heart and a comforting 
feeling stealing over him. 

“ What is in your mind, little chap ? ” said the 
Colonel. “ Out with it. I may as well say I 
have taken a fancy to you, and if I can help you in 
any way, I will. Boys like you, Jerry, want men 
to look after them ; so you see I am your man ; I 
am here on purpose — I mean — to look after you.” 

“ But — but — ” said Jerry — “ I know it is 
awful of me to say it ” 

“ Say it out, my lad ; you are no coward. 
What is in your mind ? ” 

“ I am not — your boy.” 

“ Jove ! ” said the Colonel. “ I wish you were, 
Jerry.” 

“ But I couldn’t be, could I ? I know you are 
splendid, although you did not love my father.’* 

“ I was not worthy, that is the reason,” said the 
Colonel, and he dropped his voice. 


THE ROSE GARDEN 


9 ^ 


You — were not — what ? ” said Jerry. 

“ Well, to put it baldly — good enough.’* 

“ Oh, oh,” said Jerry, patting the Colonel’s 
hand with his little one, ‘‘ I am so sorry for you,” 
“ That’s all right, little chap : you needn’t 
mind about me ; but what about yourself ? ” 

“ I can’t ever be your boy, though I may — may 
like you — ^just awful much ; for you see — I can’t 
have two fathers, can I ? ” 

“ Jove ! no — of course not.” 

Oh, I am so glad ! ” said Jerry. 

So glad of what ? ” 

“ That you see for your own self that I can’t 
have two fathers.” 

The Colonel was silent. Jerry who never 
shed tears himself was surprised to see a misty 
appearance in the Colonel’s blue eyes. He 
looked straight at him. 

“ You would not perhaps like,” he said very 
gently, “ to have a little cripple boy for your own 
boy, would you. I didn’t know until lately — I 
mean until — a — a few days ago that — I — I was 
that sort of person ; not any good, you know ; 
could never fight the King’s battles — could never 
get a V. C. — ^you know, could never, never be — a 
soldier. It is hard on me — and it’s very hard on 
you ; and that is the reason, I believe, why God 
took father to Heaven — for Father couldn’t bear 
it if — if he were to see me. Mother felt it 
dreadful. Did you know — she could hardly — 
kiss me ? I am certain sure she tried, for father 


92 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

said she was such a beautiful sort of mother and 
that I was always to be good to her. But how 
can a little cripple boy be good to anybody ? 
Poor mother ! It is awful ! I am so desperate 
sorry for her.” 

^ We’ll talk about that another time,” said the 
Colonel. ‘‘ Your mother’s all right. You and I 
between us wiU look after her.” 

“ Between us ? ” said Jerry, his eyes sparkling. 
‘‘ Can us ? ” 

“ Why, of course.” 

“ But I am a cripple.” 

“ That matters less than nothing,” said the 
Colonel. “ See here, Jerry — do you mind if I 
light a cigar ? ” 

“No, I love smoke,” said Jerry. 

The Colonel lit one while Jerry looked on with 
intense interest and appreciation. 

“ Might cripples smoke theirselves ? ” he asked 
after a time. 

“ Some day, when you are old enough,” said the 
Colonel. 

He began to puff away. He found his cigar 
wonderfully soothing, for Jerry’s innocent con- 
versation tried him not a little. After a time, he 
said : 

“ Now I tell you what. You don’t want to call 
me ‘ father,’ of course not ; I am not your father. 
But I am your mother’s husband. I mean to look 
after her.” The Colonel said these words with 
grave deliberation. “ You and I must look after 




-’r/ 


j 




\\ 




I 


“You AND I Must Look after Her Together.” 


4 




THE ROSE GARDEN 


93 


her together and we will have a lot to say to each 
other on the subject. I think you had best call 
me Colonel : that is a good name, isn’t it ? I 
am Colonel to you and you are Jerry to me. Now 
that is all right, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Oh, it’s lovely ! ” said Jerry. “ Colonel ! — it 
sounds so — sort of — splendid. It sounds so — 
tiger-hunting and fearless ’bout snakes, and brave 
enough to get your V. C. and all the other glorious 
things put together. I — would you think it 
awful queer if I was to kiss you just once — ^very 
slight on your cheek — Colonel i ’’ 


CHAPTER VIII 

Would he be Proud 

M rs. DIGBY was pleased to see Jerry. 

She told him so in an affectionate, care- 
less sort of fashion. 

“ This is a nice place, isn’t it ? ” she said. 
“ You will have a big bedroom here and plenty of 
room to run about — of course, I forgot, you can’t 
run about much, but still you can lie out in the 
shade, and that will do you good. The Colonel 
has taken a fancy to you. He’s a very good sort 
of man, but he can be severe enough if he likes. 
He is terribly severe to me at times, so you had 
better keep on his right side.” 

What is that ? ” asked Jerry, who was looking 
intently into his mother’s face, as though he would 
read her through. 

She had not nearly so much travelling dust on 
and he could not help seeing just a few wrinkles, 
the same as dear Mrs. Cole had, at the corners of 
her eyes. He could not help noticing, also, that 
her lips were not as red as they used to be ; but in 
his eyes she looked splendid. She was the woman 
his father had adored, the woman his father had 

94 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 95 

written to him about. She was the sort who 
wanted a lot of care. There were two men now 
to look after her, the Colonel — the great, gallant, 
noble Colonel, the V.C. hero — and the little 
cripple boy. But the cripple boy felt a man’s 
heart beating within him at that moment. 

“ You must keep on the Colonel’s right side if 
you are wise,” pursued Mrs. Digby, yawning 
slightly and sinking into a chair. “ He’s all right 
as long as he is pleased with you, but he’s dreadful 
when he is angry.” 

“ He never could be angry with you, mother,” 
said Jerry ; “ and as to me — ^why, there are two of 
us to take care of you now, mother.” 

“ What a quaint child you are,” said Mrs. 
Digby. “ Don’t stare at me in that solemn way ; 
you remind me so dreadfully of the Major.” 

“ My father — don’t you like me to ’mind you 
of him ? ” 

“ Certainly not ! ” said Mrs. Digby. 

Jerry started back, notwithstanding the glad- 
ness in his heart which the Colonel’s words had 
caused. He thought for a minute, then he said 
softly : 

“ It is too much for you, I ’spec’, poor mother ! ” 

He laid a velvet kiss on her brow. She was 
lying back in her chair, and he could reach it 
comfortably. Then he went out of the room. 
Mrs. Digby gave a sigh of relief when she heard 
the door close behind him. Just then, Mabel 
entered by another door. She was all in white as 


96 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

was her wont, and her pretty face looked childish 
and soft and gentle. 

‘‘ Well May,” said Mrs. Digby. “ Sit down 
near me, do, there’s a dear. This sudden affair 
between Colonel Digby and myself has startled 
you somewhat, hasn’t it ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, Auntie,” said Mabel ; “ a good bit.” 

‘‘ It is all right for you, dear,” continued her 
aunt. ‘‘ I have settled it with the Colonel. He 
is very rich, you know : he came in for this fine 
property just a year ago and has retired from the 
Army. We shall have to live here, I am afraid, 
most of the year ; he doesn’t like London. He is 
a fearfully good man, Mabel : he is not the least 
bit suited to me.” 

“ But, Aunt Cecilia,” said Mabel, ‘‘ I thought 
you were always fond of Colonel Digby.” 

Mrs. Digby moved impatiently. 

‘‘ I want to say one thing to you, Mabel. The 
past is past. You were with me in India. 
You were with me when my late husband died. 
You have seen him from time to time.” 

“ Yes, I can never forget him.” 

‘‘ For goodness’ sake,” said Mrs. Digby, don’t 
go into raptures over Major Ramsey’s memory, 
after the fashion of that silly little boy.” 

Mabel was silent, but she compressed her lips. 

‘‘ There you are,” said Mrs. Digby, “ with that 
obstinate look on your face ; I do so detest 
obstinate women, but the fact is, I must talk to 
you whether you approve of my words or not. 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 


97 

It is in some ways a lucky thing for you, Mabel, 
that I have married Colonel Digby. I am well off 
myself and can eventually leave you well provided 
for. But my money is nothing to the Colonel’s 
wealth. You won’t have, perhaps, so gay a time 
here as if we had stayed in London and I had not 
married. But that is not exactly the point. 
What I wish to speak to you about now is this. 
The past is over : it is forgotten. I don’t want 
to be reminded of my life with Major Ramsey. 
You know I was not with him very often, for 
somehow we — oh, of course you know it, Mabel, 
we did not get on. He died, poor fellow ! was 
killed in one of those horrid skirmishes with some 
of the Border tribes. Of course I was sorry then, 
after a fashion. I believe he was really fond of 
me — yes, I am certain of that, but he had such 
ridiculous, lofty ideas, that really no ordinary 
poor woman could live up to them. And then 
he would talk so continually about the boy. Now 
the fact is, I was not particularly interested in 
the boy ” 

“ Oh, Aunt Cecilia ! ” interrupted Mabel. 

“ I was not,” Mrs. Digby repeated, “ and I 
don’t mind confessing the truth. I used to say so 
to the Major. He regarded the child from one 
point of view, I from another. He thought of 
him in the most ridiculous fashion I ever heard of, 
glorifying that small child into a sort of hero, 
whereas I cannot but remember that I was aw- 
fully miserable before his birth and at death’s 

7 


98 THE COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

door when he did arrive, and that when my 
wrecked health began to recover, he had been 
taken away — sent to England, in short. Now, 
how could any reasonable person expect me to 
keep up a violent devotion to a child whom I 
had practically never seen ? Well, the Major 
is dead, and I will do my duty by the boy. But 
now to talk of Colonel Digby. 

“ He is my husband. I might have married him 
before I married the Major. Well, I didn’t. I 
was in love with the Major — that is, for a 
short time, and I chose him. But during my 
married life I used to meet the Colonel from 
time to time and he was kind to me. When we 
were coming home in the Egypt, he asked me if I 
would marry him. He was rather forcible on the 
subject, and — and I suppose he was in love — I 
don’t know — but anyhow, I promised to be his 
wife. Now, I was not keen about it. The fact 
was, I wanted my liberty, and the Colonel was 
uncommonly like my late husband, and had all 
sorts of the same lofty ideas which did not suit me a 
bit. So somehow, though I said I’d marry him, I 
didn’t really wish to. Still, all during the voyage, 
he held me to my promise, and the thought of 
his wealth made the idea more or less tolerable. 
But when I reached the hotel in London and came 
across many of my old friends, oh ! I did not want 
Colonel Digby a bit. I think, too, he was begin- 
ning to see very clearly that I was not exactly 
the wife for him. Well, anyhow, this is what 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 


99 

happened. I wrote him one or two letters of a 
nature which I trusted would open his eyes. In- 
stead of replying to them, he asked for an inter- 
view, and named an hour when he would call at 
the hotel. 

‘‘ The last thing I wished, was to see him, for he 
has, as you know very well, Mabel, a strong, 
masterful way about him, and a poor weak little 
woman like me has no chance in the hands of such 
a man. So, when I got his letter, I hastily resolved 
to be out, and I left no message of any sort. Oh, 
what a fool I was ! How could I guess that 
Zaidee would go away and not attend to her 
duties on that special night ? How could I guess 
that Colonel Digby would see that wretched 
child ? Oh, oh ! how unfortunate I have been ! 
for Mabel, dear Mabel, he had come in order 
to give me back my freedom. But when you 
and I returned so late after our fun with 
Mr. Lowndes, the Colonel had made up his 
mind. He is a most quixotic man — he thought 
that I neglected the boy — good gracious ! what 
more could I do for the child than provide 
him with every luxury and keep him with me. 
But he had his own ideas, and I could not shake 
them, so he held me to my promise, and here I 
am his wife, willy nilly. I don’t love him, 
I don’t pretend to, but I’ll manage somehow 
to enjoy life after a fashion, and you shall have as 
good a time as possible. 

“ But now there are two things for you to con- 


100 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

sider. I want you to make me two promises. 
The first is this. You are never to allude to the 
past — to the Colonel’s visits to me in the hills, for 
instance, or — or the gay time I had in Calcutta. 
And the second promise is even more important. 
You are not to allow yourself to get infatuated 
about that boy. He is an exceedingly overwrought 
and sentimental child. I always did hope — that is, 
when I thought of him at all, — that I should find a 
manly, fearless sort of lad waiting for me in Eng- 
land. But this child — so sickly and crippled — 
oh ! most mothers would be frightfully disap- 
pointed. Well, I am not disappointed, I simply 
don’t care. But for goodness’ sake, Mabel ! 
don’t take his part. That is what I want 
you to promise. Now, say you will do what I 
wish on both points and let us close the sub- 
ject.’^ 

Mabel sat quite still for a minute after this very 
long speech on the part of her aunt Cecilia. Then 
she dropped on her knees and came close to the 
side of the faded but still beautiful woman. 
Her sweet fresh young face made a strange con- 
trast to the lined face of the woman into whose 
eyes she tried to look. But those shallow eyes of 
Mrs. Digby could never be looked into. In the 
first place, they were too restless. They darted 
here, they darted there. They were never still — 
like pools whose depths lie far below. Mabel 
gave up the attempt to penetrate what could not 
be penetrated. The only expression that Mrs. 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 


lOI 


Digby’s eyes wore was a look of craft, and that 
expression the girl did not care to meet. 

How silly of you to kneel and spoil your 
dress ! ” said the bride. “ What is the matter 
with you ? Make me your promise, and then 
we will talk about all the things I propose to do 
this summer. 

I will certainly promise you. Auntie, that I 
won’t refer to the past, but I shan’t forget it, 
because all my young days are mixed up with it. 
I have seen the Major ; he was my uncle and I 
loved him, and I have always admired Colonel 
Digby, and thought him kind, very kind to 
you.” 

“ Oh, of course, child, he has got me out of 
endless scrapes.” 

I never allude to any of these things,” said 
Mabel ; but the other promise you want me to 
make — well, I cannot do it, Auntie.” 

‘‘ What — about that boy ? ” 

Yes : I love Jerry better than any little boy I 
have ever met before. He is beautiful ; he has a 
good and noble heart, and he and I are comrades 
and we are going to cling together, and I shall 
always, always take his part, whatever happens. 
Oh, Auntie, if you would but try to understand 
him, you would see that even though he is a 
cripple he is the sweetest boy in the world.” 

Mrs. Digby gave an impatient sigh. She rose, 
and shook out her voluminous dress. 

‘‘ Have your own way,” she said, “ only keep 


102 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

the child as much away from me as possible. 
Between you and the Colonel, he is likely to be 
absolutely ruined.” 

“ But, Aunt Cecilia, he is your child ! ” 

‘‘ That makes no difference ; I never was suited 
to be the mother of a child. I was very ill after 
his birth, and before I recovered consciousness he 
had been sent out of the country. How could 
you expect me to love him ? ” 

Mabel gave an impatient sigh. 

“ I suppose you couldn’t,” she said. “ I sup- 
pose it is no use — I suppose we had really best talk 
of other things.” 

“ Yes, of course,” said Mrs. Digby, eagerly. 

I am so glad Zaidee is come back. How do you 
like this new arrangement of my hair ? I wonder 
what Cyril will think of it.” 

Cyril ? ” said Mabel. 

Colonel Digby — that is his Christian name. 
I have to call him Cyril, of course. He calls me 
Cecilia. Never mind what his stupid name is. 
Tell me if you think this arrangement of my hair 
becoming ? ” 

“ Oh, yes. Auntie ; you look very nice.” 

“ And you like this dress ? It is quite new.” 

“ It is pretty,” said Mabel. 

“ I am going to get you a lot of new frocks. It 
is just lucky that you didn’t go out much in 
London, only just to a few theatres and suppers. 
You shall be properly presented next season with 
all the necessary eclat.^^ 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 


103 

Shall we walk for a little in the grounds now ? ” 
said Mabel in reply to this. But Mrs. Digby 
held up her hands in horror. 

“ I never walk out unprovided with a hat and 
veil ! ” she said. I may be bitten by the 
midges ; the garden is full of them, and I am 
so apt to get nettle rash on my hands if I don’t 
wear gloves. I prefer to sit indoors. Sit near 
me, May, like a good child, and let us talk.” 

Mabel suppressed a sigh, and obeyed. The 
next day at lunch Mrs. Digby looked across the 
table at Jerry. Jerry was seated on a chair a little 
higher than the others. He objected to this in 
his heart of hearts, for he hated ever being made 
to appear remarkable. But as the chair had been 
placed for his benefit by Adolphe, he was afraid it 
might hurt the kind footman’s feelings if he did 
not accept it with a good grace. So he sat perched 
up, feeling his lameness and the pain in his hip 
more acutely than ever. Mrs. Digby said — 

“ What a deadly complexion you have, Fitz ! 
You ought to be out in the air a good deal.” 

“ By the way,” said the Colonel, looking with 
great kindness at the child, ‘‘ I have put up a 
hammock for you in the garden, Jerry. You shall 
come with me and see it when lunch is over. It 
is a new sort of hammock, and you can get into 
it and out of it again with the greatest ease.” 

“ Thank you very much. Colonel,” replied 
Jerry. 

This was the first time that Mrs. Digby had 


104 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

heard the boy address her husband. She burst 
into a ringing laugh. 

“ You ridiculous little creature ! ” she said. 
“ Why in the world do you speak to your father as 
Colonel ? Say ‘ father ’ at once, and let me hear 
no more nonsense.” 

‘‘ I prefer to be called by the other name,” said 
the Colonel. 

He looked fixedly at his wife. His eyes were 
stern : his red face grew a shade redder. Jerry 
glanced at him, thought of the tiger hunt and the 
snake, and made up his mind that the Colonel 
could be splendid even when you were not keeping 
at his right side. Mrs. Digby flushed. 

‘‘ You are a pair of geese, both of you,” she said, 
and immediately turned the conversation. The 
Colonel addressed Jerry with studied polite- 
ness. 

“ I was thinking,” he said, that when you lie 
in the hammock this hot afternoon I might tell 
you another tiger story.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Jerry. “ Oh, thank you ! ” 

‘‘ Aren’t you going to call me something ? ” 
said the Colonel, his eyes, half mocking but wholly 
kind, fixing themselves on the boy. 

Jerry coloured. He hated to vex his mother, 
who somewhere in her nature must be really 
adorable. He hated to vex the Colonel. 

‘‘ Thank you very much,” he repeated. 

‘‘ Colonel,” said the man. 

‘‘ Colonel,” answered the boy. 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 105 

Mrs. Digby’s face flushed with annoyance. 
She rose hastily from the luncheon table. 

“ I have had enough. I am going for a drive 
with Mabel. Mabel, come and get ready at once. 
I leave you, Colonel Digby, to amuse yourself in 
the way you like best.” 

“ Thanks awfully,” he answered. 

Jerry felt that smarting sensation at the back of 
his eyes. His own position was not an easy one ; 
but before he could say a word, the Colonel rose, 
went up to him and said in a cheerful voice : 

‘‘ Have you finished your lunch ? ” 

Yes, quite, thanks,” said Jerry. 

“ Then we will go out. I don’t want you to 
walk much to-day. Keep quite still, don’t re- 
sist ; now then.” 

In a moment the boy was perched on the 
Colonel’s broad shoulder. This was a delightful 
position. 

- Put your arm round my neck,” said 
Colonel Digby. 

Jerry obeyed. That red neck had a manly feel 
about it. The boy began to forget his mother. 
His troubles melted as they always did in that 
genial presence. 

‘‘ Now, then, out we go into the air and sun- 
shine, into the rose country, into the land of 
flowers,” said the Colonel. 

He stepped outside through the open window. 
It was very lofty and the boy did not need to bend 
his curly head. They went across the lawn in this 


io6 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


delightful fashion. Mrs. Digby could see them 
from her room. The smile with which she viewed 
the sight was not a pleasant one. Zaidee saw it 
and was glad. Zaidee did not dare to make a 
remark. 

The Colonel showed Jerry how to get into the 
hammock himself. It was quite easy, even for a 
lame boy. Jerry sat back amongst the cushions, 
and owned to a feeling of great happiness. The 
Colonel drew a deck chair forward and said, in a 
half comical, half serious fashion — 

‘‘ May I smoke ? ” 

Jerry said, “ Oh, certainly. Colonel,” and long, 
spiral whiffs and rings of pale blue smoke began to 
float in the air. Jerry watched them, his eyes 
dancing. The Colonel suddenly took his pipe 
from his mouth. 

‘‘ By the way,” he said,“ that lameness of yours.” 

Jerry flushed. 

“ You’re a plucky little chap.” 

I — I don’t know,” said Jerry. 

Well, anyhow you want to be cured, don’t 
you ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, if I could,” said Jerry. 

“ I have sent for Sir Arnold Brewster, the 
greatest doctor, or rather surgeon of the day, to 
come here to-morrow morning to examine you 
thoroughly. On his verdict ” 

“ What’s a verdict ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ On what he says — on his opinion all your 
future depends. How old are you ? ” 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 


107 

Eight — and four months, and — and a week.” 

“ Yes, you are a very young child.” 

“ Am I ? ” said Jerry, wistfully. ‘‘ Father 
said when I was six years old that I had lived 
seventy-two months in the world. I must have 
lived now ” 

‘‘ Oh, never mind going into that,” said the 
Colonel. You are still remarkably young. Many 
boys of your age are babies. You happen not to be 
one. Your mind is rather too big for your body, 
Jerry boy ; and your soul is too big both for mind 
and body. Now, I am anxious to balance matters 
for you.” 

“ Balance ? ” said Jerry. 

“ Yes, to put things a little more even. You 
have a manly mind, my lad : well, I want you to 
have a manly body.” 

“ Oh,” said Jerry, shouldn’t I love it ! ” 

“ The strong, graceful body,” continued the 
Colonel, “ of a soldier of the King.” 

Oh ! ” said Jerry. “ Like father, and ” — 
he added, after a pause — “ like you.” 

“ No, Jerry ; not like me, but like your father. 
You have got his eyes ; I want you to have his — 
his character, and his bodily frame, if possible. I 
want you to be able to ride, and play manly games 
and go to a boys’ school and, if you wish it, event- 
ually to enter the Army. I don’t know whether 
you ever will, but I mean to have a good try to 
help you to all this ; and the very first step in the 
right direction is to see Sir Arnold Brewster. He 


io8 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

may hurt you a bit, or he may order things that 
will hurt you. When there is such a great 
matter at stake you don’t mind that, do 
you ? ” 

“ No,” said Jerry. He spoke in a very stout 
and resolute voice, the voice of a child who had, 
as it were, counted the cost. He did not utter the 
word lightly ; he felt it through and through his 
being. 

The Colonel looked at him. 

That is enough,” he said. If I am not 
vastly mistaken, you will make a fine soldier, as 
fine as Major Ramsey did.” 

“ Would he be proud if I did ? ” said Jerry, in a 
choked voice. 

‘‘ Proud ? ” answered the Colonel. “ There 
would simply be no end to his pride.” 

Jerry passed his little hand across his eyes as 
though the sun were too bright for them. A 
silence fell between the pair. After a minute, 
Jerry removed his hand. When he did so, he 
looked full at the Colonel. 

“ I am quite ready,” he said ; ‘‘ and please, 
shall we not talk about it ? and will you tell me a 
tiger story ? ” 

When Mrs. Digby and Mabel returned from 
their drive, they heard peals of laughter coming 
from a certain part of the garden. 

“ Whatever can be the matter f ” said Mrs. 
Digby. 


WOULD HE BE PROUD ? 


109 

‘‘ That’s Jerry’s laugh,” said Mabel. 

“ I wish you would call him Fitz, Mabel. Jerry 
is such a common name.” 

“ But he likes it best,” said Mabel. 

The laughter sounded again on the summer air. 
It was very clear and high and sweet. It had a 
most happy childish ring in it. But now 
mixed with it came the hearty laugh of a 
man. 

“ It’s past belief ! ” said Mrs. Digby. 

She hurried across the lawn. When she came 
in sight of the Colonel and Jerry she stopped still 
in amazement. The Colonel was neither reading 
nor telling stories. He was absolutely pelting Jerry 
with rose leaves and Jerry was pelting him back 
again, and there was a look of such perfect enjoy- 
ment on Colonel Digby’s face, that the angry 
wife felt a sudden sense of keen jealousy. Flad 
he ever, ever since that first time, long ago, 
looked at her with such pleasure ? How dared 
he give such a look to Major Ramsey’s boy ! 
An;:er trembled in her face. 

“ May I speak to you. Colonel Digby ? ” she 
said in a lofty tone. 

All in a moment, at her words, the pleasure on 
the two faces died away. The Colonel got up and 
went towards her with extreme alacrity and out- 
ward politeness. But she guessed what he felt. 
He was enraged with her for interrupting him, 
for stealing in on his mirth, and for causing a 
shadow to creep over the boy’s face. Hitherto, 


no THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Mrs. Digby had felt no active resentment towards 
Jerry, but now she was intensely jealous of him, 
and jealousy in a nature like hers cannot but work 
serious harm to its victim. 


CHAPTER IX 

The Girl in the Garden 

S OME years ago, two men loved the same 
girl. She was a country parson’s daughter, 
and was brought up in all the innocence and 
purity of the best of country life. Her eyes were 
clear brown ; her slim figure was the perfection of 
grace ; she had a wealth of brown hair to match 
those pretty eyes. Her features were delicate 
and perfect in outline. Above all things, there 
was a nameless charm about her which made her, 
to these two men in particular, irresistible. 

The men who loved Cecilia Fraser, with all 
the passion of strong love, belonged to the same 
regiment. When they first met her they were 
quartered in the country town near which her 
father’s rectory was situated. One of them was 
Digby, the other Ramsey. Digby at that time 
was Captain Digby ; but Ramsey, a younger 
man by a few years, was only lieutenant. 

Ramsey was handsome, but poor ; Digby even 
then had large private means. Cecilia, whom 
her friends were fond of calling Saint Cecilia, on 

U1 


1 12 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


account of the purity of her features and the 
loftiness and beauty of her expression, had never- 
theless a keen inner eye to the main chances of 
life. She was well aware of the fact that these 
extremely attractive young men were in love with 
her. She cared most for Ramsey, but Digby 
was the rich man of the two. 

Digby was sent for in a hurry to London to 
see his parents, one of whom was dying. From 
there he wrote a passionate letter to Cecilia. He 
told her just what he felt about her. He offered 
himself to her for better, for worse, for all time. 
His words were those of a strong man deeply 
moved by the most holy and perfect attachment 
for a beautiful girl. But it was the postscript of 
his letter which most attracted her. In this he 
mentioned the fact that by his father’s death he 
was entitled to a large sum of money ; so that 
when a proper interval had passed he would be 
in a position to make her his wife without further 
delay. 

This postscript turned the scales in the mind 
of this exceedingly practical and worldly St. 
Cecilia. She wrote to Digby, promising to be 
his wife. His delight knew no bounds. 

Soon after his father’s death he returned to 
Hazelcroft, the name of her father’s rectory, to 
visit her. He arrived late in the evening. The 
night was a warm one. He was told by the servant 
that Miss Fraser was in the garden. His heart 
trembled as he thought of the delightful moment 


THE GIRL IN THE GARDEN 113 

which awaited him. He went out alone into 
the dark, summer-laden air. He trod softly on 
the dewy grass. Before he could retrace his 
steps, he heard voices. Words of passion fell on 
his ears. Ramsey and Cecilia were together, and 
Ramsey was telling the girl of his love. Digby 
stood still as though some one had turned him 
into stone. He waited with a fierce beating of his 
heart for her reply. She would of course tell the 
truth. She would be sorry for the pain she was 
causing, but would declare that her heart was 
already given to another, and that she had pro- 
mised herself to Ramsey’s brother officer. 

But no such words did Digby hear. Cecilia 
had cared for Digby’s money, but, at this moment, 
her wayward fancy and her fickle affection were 
all given to Ramsey. She fell on his neck in a 
passion of weeping, and told him that she loved 
no one in all the world but him. Digby returned 
softly into the house. He took up his hat and 
went out. 

The next morning, Cecilia received a letter 
from him in which he said that he had overheard 
her words to Ramsey, that they were unmistakable, 
and could never be passed over or forgotten. He 
gave her back her liberty. His one request to 
her was that Ramsey was not to know of their 
brief engagement. Cecilia was only too glad to 
comply with this, for she feared to lower herself 
in Ramsey’s eyes. She had already half repented 
of her passion for him, but eventually she married 

8 


II4 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

him, and they went to India in the autumn of 
that same year. 

Digby, a rich man now, was able to effect an 
exchange into another regiment. But the shock 
of Cecilia’s fickleness and the baseness of her 
nature were too much for him. He was changed 
and his frank nature hardened. Nevertheless, her 
image haunted him continually. But the greatest 
emotion of his heart was his deadly, his unutter- 
able hatred towards the man who had won her. 
Surely Ramsey must have seen, must have 
guessed. Digby hated him so much that he 
would gladly at that time have done him an 
injury. 

Six years later, he met Mrs. Ramsey again. A 
portion of his regiment was sent to Simla, where 
she was spending the hot season. She was a very 
delicate, very refined looking, much admired 
young woman. But she had gone through 
serious illness since her marriage. After her 
only child was born, she lay for months at the 
point of death. Her husband wanted to send 
her to England with the child, but she could not 
bear even to speak of her son, and for a year or 
more no one dared to allude to the child in her 
presence. 

After that period she grew a little stronger, but 
she spent the greater part of her time at the hills, 
while Ramsey, a brave and splendid soldier, was 
rapidly winning public recognition and promotion. 
Wherever Digby went, he only heard good of 


THE GIRL IN THE GARDEN 115 

Cecilia Ramsey’s husband, but that very fact 
caused the fungus of hatred to grow more deeply 
in his heart. 

At last, he met Cecilia, and was startled at the 
change in her. Her etherealness and delicacy 
still, it is true, appealed to him, but there was a 
want in her face. The St. Cecilia of the rectory 
garden had disappeared, and a worldly-minded 
woman with hard brown eyes, and a complexion 
spoiled by India, and the use of cosmetics, met his 
gaze. It seemed to him as he looked at her that 
all in a minute his idol lay shattered at his feet. 
On her part, Mrs. Ramsey was pleased to meet 
Digby. Like other young women of her class, 
she could not have too many men to surround 
her court. She liked attentions, and pretty 
speeches, but never, as she expressed it, over- 
stepped the bounds of propriety with any one. 

Digby, although his old love was dead, still felt 
a strange fascination in her presence. He liked 
to watch her with his moody blue eyes. He often 
stood silent in a crowd just for the pleasure — 
which was really more pain than pleasure — of 
seeing her pass by. 

One day, she asked him to visit her, and ex- 
pressed a desire in her letter to see him alone. 
He hesitated to comply with her request, but 
eventually went to her. He found her in tears 
and distress. Behind his outward hardness and 
short, severe manner, beat a very kind heart for 
all those in trouble. Digby asked the cause of 


ii6 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

her grief, and when she explained to him that she 
was heavily in debt, that she dared not confide 
her troubles to her husband, who never could or 
would understand her, he offered her money. He 
had plenty, he said. She was welcome to any 
sum she required. She named a large sum, and 
he gave it to her. 

The next day he left Simla. His reason for 
doing so was that he would not meet Ramsey, 
whom he knew was returning. He hated himself 
for having lent Ramsey’s wife money. He had 
lowered himself in his own eyes by this action, 
and felt that he had injured her also. Hitherto 
he had felt, and the sensation gave him comfort, 
that he had every right to hate Ramsey. But 
now it suddenly occurred to him that their 
positions were reversed, and that Ramsey, if he 
knew, would hate him. He wrote to Mrs. Ram- 
sey, beseeching her to tell her husband just what 
had occurred, and to explain Digby’s own action 
in the matter — that it was merely a business loan 
which could be returned at any time. 

This letter, far from helping Digby’s cause, 
brought matters to a crisis. Not for worlds 
would Mrs. Ramsey have told her husband of her 
recklessness and debts. But Digby’s letter fell 
into his hands. He read it, and his anger knew 
no bounds. He wrote to Digby returning the 
loan which he had given to Mrs. Ramsey, and 
using bitter words which the other man chose 
not to forgive. The feud between the two 


THE GIRL IN THE GARDEN 117 

strengthened, and Digby’s really fine character 
was soured in the process. 

A year or two went by. Digby avoided meet- 
ing Mrs. Ramsey, who wrote to him from time to 
time, and even alluded to the proposition of 
further loans. More and more did his idol 
crumble before his eyes ; but more and more 
fiercely did he hate her husband. He heard, 
too, from one of Ramsey’s brother officers, that 
Major Ramsey was himself in pecuniary diffi- 
culties, and whispers of his wife’s growing extrava- 
gance reached Digby’s ears. 

It so happened that both these men, by one of 
those curious coincidences which do occur some- 
times in life, were sent eventually to the same 
frontier to quiet some of the tribes. There 
was a fierce skirmish in which Ramsey was fatally 
wounded. Digby, who had escaped unhurt, 
was eating his breakfast one morning when a 
soldier informed him that Major Ramsey, in the 
little hospital just across the hill, wished to see 
him. The man further told Digby that 
Major Ramsey had not many hours to live. 
Digby to his dying day would never forget the 
moment when that message reached him. He 
uttered a shocked and startled exclamation, and 
immediately started off to the hospital. 

When he entered and knelt by the camp bed 
where his brother officer was breathing his last, 
that terrible hatred, which had eaten like a 
canker into his soul, fell away from him, and 


ii8 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

horror of himself and of what he had done took 
possession of him. Surely those bad wishes 
which he had nurtured against Ramsey during all 
the past years must have borne fruijt. Here was 
a man — young, younger than himself, upright, 
honourable, brave of the brave, with a noble and 
strong heart, a wife whom he adored, a child 
(some one had whispered to Digby that there was 
a child) dying ; while he, Digby, who had no ties 
of any sort, was spared. 

Ramsey turned and looked at him with a sort 
of expression which does come into dying men’s 
eyes. 

“ Why — why did you send for me ? ” said 
Digby. 

I want you to do one or two things for me,” 
said Ramsey. “ You yourself will break the news 
to my wife.” 

“ Why should you ask me to do it ? ” 

Ramsey did not reply for a minute. 

“ I have written a letter to my little son in 
England. You will post it ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” said Digby. 

“ And you will do that other thing for me : 
you will go to Cecilia and tell her ” 

“ What ? ” asked Digby. 

“To be good to the little chap at home ; to 
return to England and look after him. He and 
she, I love them both well, you understand ? ” 

“ God knows — I understand ! 

Ramsey’s grey eyes opened wide fora moment. 


THE GIRL IN THE GARDEN 


119 

“ You forgive me, old chap ? ” he said. ‘‘ I 
was hurt about that money. I wrote intem- 
perately.” 

‘‘It is nothing ; it is all over,” said 
Digby. 

“ You see one has to be so careful of one’s wife,” 
said Ramsey. 

“ I know,” said Digby. “ I acted in the most 
beastly manner.” 

“ She is extravagant, poor little thing ! ” said 
Ramsey ; “ that is her ” — he paused for a minute 

“ only fault.” 

“ You think so ? ” said Digby. “ You who 
have been her husband so long ? ” 

“ I know it,” said Ramsey. “ I have been 
much away from her, which has been hard on 
her ; but — she has no other fault. She will miss 
me, perhaps, but there’s the boy — splendid little 
chap, the boy ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Digby. He was not interested 
in children. After a minute, he said, “ I want 
to confess something to you.” 

Ramsey looked at him in some surprise. 

“ Do you remember the garden at Hazelcroft 
Rectory ? ” 

A smile passed over Ramsey’s face. 

“ So sweet ! ” he murmured. “ The smell of 
roses everywhere.” 

“ Yes,” answered Digby. “ And — a lady 
walked in the garden, didn’t she ? the lady of 
our dreams.” 


120 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

‘‘ Our dreams ? ” said Ramsey. 

‘‘ Did you never guess, Ramsey, that I loved 
her too ? ” 

Ramsey’s honest eyes expressed astonish- 
ment. 

“ You often came with me to visit her,” he 
said after a pause, but you never spoke. I spoke : 
that made all the difference.” 

“ Yes, all the difference ; all the difference,” 
said Digby. 

He had half resolved when he began his story 
to tell Ramsey the truth. But no ; let the dying 
man go away with the image of his dream lady 
perfect in his soul. 

“ I hated you,” said Digby, “ for winning her. 
I must confess that to you now.” 

“ To lose her must have gone hard,” said 
Ramsey. “ I — I quite understand.” 

Digby was with his old comrade when he 
breathed his last. It was he who posted the 
letter to little Jerry in England, and it was he who 
broke the news to Mrs. Ramsey. She took the 
tidings of her husband’s death in an impulsive 
and extraordinary fashion. She told Digby that, 
after the first, she had long ceased to care for 
Ramsey. 

‘‘ He never knew it,” said Digby. He died 
believing in you.” 

He left her feeling too shocked to remain any 
longer in her presence. Nevertheless, a strange 
thing followed. When, six months later. Ram- 


I2I 


THE GIRL IN THE GAKDE^ 

sey’s widow returned to England in the Egyp, 
Digby asked her to marry him. He had come in 
for a very large additional property and had sent 
in his resignation to the War Office. He saw all 
Cecilia’s weaknesses now, nevertheless she was 
after a fashion even still the one woman for him. 
Ramsey had inherited some money too, just before 
his death, but this, in the hands of a reckless 
woman like Mrs. Ramsey, could not last long. 
Digby felt that she needed a strong man to look 
after her. He would be the strong man. So he 
proposed to her and was accepted. 

But Mrs. Ramsey no sooner got to England 
than she repented of her engagement. Liberty 
was sweet. She could do what she liked now, 
and her funds were all-sufficient for her present 
needs. She did not therefore require just yet 
the only thing she had ever cared for as far as 
Digby was concerned, his money. Meanwhile, he 
himself was thinking gravely over what he had 
done. He had no intention of going back from 
his word, for with his faults, and he had many, 
he was not that sort of man. But on one point 
he was resolved. Mrs. Ramsey must give up 
certain acquaintances who, in the Colonel’s eyes, 
were absolutely undesirable. She had made him 
a promise that she would do so, but she had not 
been many weeks in London before he had testi- 
mony to the fact that she disregarded his wishes, 
and spent most of her time with these undesirable 
people. Hot anger then awoke within him. He 


122 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

resolved to go to see her, to insist on her keep- 
ing her promise or on her taking back her 
liberty. 

He called on a certain evening, having first sent 
her a message naming the exact hour of his arrival. 
She had chosen to ignore both his message and 
himself. When he called at the Hotel Cecil he 
was told that she was out. He asked if she had 
left a letter or any sort of message. He was 
assured that she had not done so. Then he 
made up his mind : he would wait for her until 
she returned. However late the hour might be, 
she would find Digby, her future husband, waiting 
to greet her. Had she not promised to marry 
him ? Yes ; he would offer her her freedom 
to-night, but at the same time he would confront 
her with the fact that he knew her character in 
all its trivialities, its shallowness, its worthlessness, 
at last. 

Then it happened that Colonel Digby met 
Ramsey’s boy, and that boy caused an abso- 
lute and complete revolution in the Colonel’s 
mind. All that scene, when he had knelt 
by the deathbed of Major Ramsey, rushed 
over him. The dying Major believed both in 
wife and son. Colonel Digby had hated him 
during his lifetime with a vehement, unreason- 
able, undying hatred. Now was the time to 
make reparation. 

He could give up his life to it. He could help 
the boy to realize his father’s ideal, and he could 


THE GIRL IN THE GARDEN 123 


save the mother from the worst sins of her nature. 
He set the task before him. He subjected every 
impulse to his iron will. Conscience would be 
satisfied. Major Ramsey would be avenged. 


CHAPTER X 

The Doctor 

S IR ARNOLD BREWSTER’S verdict with 
regard to little Fitzgerald Ramsey was 
at once graver and at the same time more reassur- 
ing than Colonel Digby had expected. The 
boy was undoubtedly delicate, and there was 
injury to the hip joint. An operation might 
be performed. This would be of a painful and 
critical nature. If it succeeded, the child in 
all probability would get quite well. His recovery 
would be slow but sure, and by the time he was 
ten or eleven years of age, he would be scarcely 
inconvenienced at all by lameness. 

At the same time, there was much to be con- 
sidered. He was a frail little chap. It is true, 
he had spirit and patience and endurance ; but 
the operation was not only serious to the point 
of danger in itself, but the very slow recovery 
afterwards might prove too much for the boy’s 
strength. In short, the fact had to be considered 
whether little Jerry Ramsey was to live a 
cripple during all his days, or was to take his 
chance of becoming a strong man. Death might 
step in and close the little life. It was possible, 

124 


THE DOCTOR 


I2S 

The great surgeon would perform the opera- 
tion willingly, but he wished the boy’s friends to 
know the truth. He went to London by the next 
train, and soon afterwards, Jerry, who had been 
kept in bed during the morning, appeared, lean- 
ing on his crutch and walking across the rose 
garden. The surgeon had said very little 
to him, and what he had said the boy had ad- 
mired rather than otherwise. He had put him to 
some pain, of course, but it was bearable. Jerry 
looked with shining eyes and intense approba- 
tion at the strong man, with those tender, firm 
hands. 

“ How wonderful,’’ thought Jerry, to be a 
person like that — a person who could cause the 
lame to walk ! ” he said to the surgeon just before 
he went away : “ I s’pose you have took after 
Jesus Christ.” Sir Arnold Brewster looked in 
• amazement at the boy. “ ’Cause He did things 
like that,” continued Jerry. ‘‘ If you do the 
same, if you make me able to run and jump and 
be like other boys, you will be a second Jesus 
Christ.” 

“ Hush, Jerry ! ” said Mabel, who had come 
into the room at that moment. But the surgeon 
held out his hand. 

‘‘ I have not as big a reputation yet,” he said, 
“ as the Great Physician ; but I will do my best 
for you, little chap : that is, if I can.” 

Jerry was abundantly satisfied with these words. 
He had a maid of his own now, a girl who was 


126 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


called Dolly by her fellow-servants, and Dolly was 
very kind to him. He hardly ever saw Zaidee. 
He went into raptures over Sir Arnold while 
Dolly was helping him into his clothes ; and 
when eventually he lay down in his hammock 
under the rose trees, there was scarcely a happier 
little boy to be found in the world. 

He fully expected that the Colonel would 
join him very soon. Colonel Digby was fond of 
spending his mornings with Jerry ; indeed, it 
was wonderful how much time this gallant officer 
did bestow upon the cripple boy. But look as 
he would, Jerry could not see any sign of his 
dear friend that morning. Suddenly, it occurred 
to him that of course the Colonel had taken the 
wonderful, great physician back to the railway 
station. That would account for the delay in his 
making his appearance. 

Just then, he saw his mother pacing up and 
down a distant part of the rose garden. She 
was wearing a long, trailing, muslin dress made 
of the softest shade of mauve. Her bright hair 
looked very bright in the sunshine. She held a 
white parasol over her head. The parasol partly 
concealed her face. She was walking up and 
down alone. Even Mabel, who spent most of 
her time with Mrs. Digby, was not with her. 
Jerry felt a sense of delight. His heart swelled 
within him. How very beautiful she was ! He 
thouglit of his father, and of what his father 
had always said of her. He thought of his nine 


THE DOCTOR 


127 

precious letters — how they had invariably sung 
her praises ! She was a little difficult to get at 
but that was surely because her heart lay so deep 
down. She did not wear it on her sleeve. Mrs. 
Cole had once told him that people who wore 
their hearts on their sleeves were contemptible. 
He had asked what the expression meant and had 
got a lucid explanation. 

“ They’re them, my dear,” she had said, ‘‘ who 
hug you for nothing, and forget you for nothing. 
They’re all soft promises and no deeds, my dear. 
They’re a poor lot. I’ve a holy contempt for 
them.” 

Jerry reflected with great satisfaction that 
Mrs. Cole could certainly never say that his 
mother — his mother wore her heart on her sleeve. 
The great mother part of her was hard to find. 
But it was there : it was beautiful and sacred. 
It was like the Ark of God that Mrs. Fitzgerald 
had told him about ; it dwelt in the Holy of 
Flolies. 

Mrs. Digby continued to pace up and down 
slowly, as though she were thinking. After a 
time, Jerry wondered if she would look in his di- 
rection. At any turn in her walk, she had but to 
glance across the garden to see him. He was 
her little boy, and he was waiting for her, longing 
just to have one kiss, however slight that kiss 
might be. 

He had gone through a good bit that morning, 
although he would not even own it to himself. 


128 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

But the great physician had pulled his leg about, 
and his thigh and hip ached rather more than usual. 

‘‘ The pain is about as bad as when I am in a 
railway carriage,” thought Jerry. “ If it was a 
little worse, I should have to go alone somewhere, 
but if it stays just as it is now, I think I can bear 
it without groaning, or anything horrid of that 
sort.” 

But because of the pain and the excitement 
he had lived through, he wanted his mother very 
badly. At last, nature must have her due, and 
his clear voice called across the garden. 

‘‘ Mummy, mummy ! Jerry boy’s here ! ” 

This was the very last way in which Jerry boy 
ought to have addressed Mrs. Digby. She dis- 
liked immensely both the word, “ mummy ” 
and the expression ‘‘ Jerry boy.” She stood still 
in her walk and, taking up her lorgnette, placed 
it against her eyes and looked at the boy. She 
was, or fancied herself, shortsighted, and her 
lorgnette was very beautiful, set in tortoiseshell 
and gold. Jerry lay with his little white face 
turned towards her. Was she coming ? 

Yes. She approached slowly. It was wonder- 
ful how like an angel she looked as she walked. 
Her white parasol was held slightly behind her 
head now, and it gave her, to Jerry, the appear- 
ance of having wings. She glided, too, rather 
than walked. Her soft draperies floated out 
behind her. Oh, what would not Jerry give to 
nestle in her arms, to lie against her heart ! 


THE DOCTOR 


129 

She stopped within a few paces of him, stared 
down, and said : 

“ What do you want ? ” 

Jerry looked up at her. He was chilled, but he 
was not going to own it. 

“ The great doctor has been,” he said. 

“ Don’t I know it ? ” said Mrs. Digby. “ It’s 
too horrid ! It’s just too abominable and dis- 
appointing ! ” 

‘‘ Why — what, mother ? ” said Jerry. 

“ I might have known,” said Mrs. Digby. 
“ Your father doesn’t wish it done, and you’ll 
be a cripple always. You’ll never walk like an- 
other boy ; you’ll always be the sort of creature 
one must take about with one and pity and fuss 
over and ” 

“ Why — what, mother ? ” said Jerry. 

The fierceness of her words had roused a 
sensation in him which brought him to a stand- 
ing position. He stood upright, although the 
pain in his hip was so acute that he could have 
screamed aloud. 

“ I won’t be a cripple ! ” he said. “ Great 
doctor can cure me ; I know he can. Why, 
mother, mother — are you — are you sorry ? Are 
you keeping back crying about me ? But you 
may cry if you like. Women anxl girls may cry : 
it’s men and boys that mustn’t. Kneel down 
by me, mummy ! ” 

Poor Jerry was feeling faint enough to struggle 
back to his hammock. 


9 


130 THE COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

“ I kneel by you ? ” said Mrs. Digby. ** Not 
I ! Pm not going to cry, although I have cause 
for tears. And don’t call me mummy. I don’t 
wish it. I suppose what’s right will be done, 
though your father thinks otherwise. If you 
wish to please me, you will submit. Do you 
hear ? You will use your influence. That 
man makes a fool of himself about you. I can’t 
stay any longer now. You had better rest where 
you are, Fitz ; I must go into the house.” 

She sailed away — the gracious lady with the 
white wings. Ah, no ! She was not a gracious 
lady, and that parasol did not look a bit like wings 
now ; and Jerry hid his face against the side of 
the hammock, and shook all over : for he would 
not cry — no, he would not cry though tears 
were rending him for utterance. 


CHAPTER XI 
Letter Number Eight 

TERRY boy stayed a long time in his hammock. 

People seemed to have forgotten him : 
even Mabel did not come near him. He was, on 
the whole, glad of this. He wanted to be alone, 
to think things out. 

He had received a most severe shock. It was a 
worse shock than that which Zaidee had given 
him at Folkestone ; for Zaidee’s shock, bad as it 
was, had been uttered by the lips of a servant, an 
outsider, not one of his own. But mother’s 
shock ! Did mothers, as a rule shock their little 
boys ? Did they despise them ? No, no, no ! 
His mother could not despise him. He fought 
with himself, he applied his common sense to the 
idea. He tried to fit the words his mother had 
uttered to the picture he was forming all over 
again about her. He struggled and struggled to 
keep his idol still intact. She was in no sense, 
in no one particular, his dream mother ; but 
still, she was his mother, and of course she loved 
him. Being a woman who did not wear her 
heart on her sleeve she could not kiss and pet him. 

131 


132 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

It was very queer. He almost wished that she 
sometimes would let a little of that priceless 
heart peep out. But still, when he found it, it 
would be an hour worth living for, an hour for a 
boy to fight through pain and terror and suffering 
to obtain. 

Yes, he would win her, and there was a way. 
She did not want her son to be a cripple. She 
had certainly spoken rather harsh words, for it 
was not Jerry’s fault ; he disliked being a cripple 
just as much as she disliked it for him. It would 
have comforted him greatly to have got a little 
sympathy in the matter ; but if his mother could 
not give it, why she couldn’t, and there was an 
end of it. 

Jerry was already learning one tremendous fact in 
life, that what a person does not possess, that person 
can never give. His mother did not possess out- 
side sympathy. He did not express the thought 
inthese words, but it came to him. She was not 
to blame, his darling, beautiful mother ! 

He grew calmer as the time went on, and as his 
thoughts with regard to her arranged themselves 
in his mind. Finally, he summed up everything. 
It would give her torture if he were to be a cripple 
always ; it would give that beautiful mother of 
his, agony, if he were always to be the sort of 
creature one must pity and fuss over. “ She 
doesn’t fuss much, though,” he could not help 
reflecting. Then he remembered some of her 
words : “ If you wish to please me, you will 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 133 

submit. What was he to submit to ? She had 
said further : “ I suppose what is right will be 
done, though your father thinks otherwise.’^ 
What was right to be done ? and why would his 
mother hurt him by calling the Colonel, the dear 
Colonel, his father ? 

But that thought caused another thought to 
come with it. What would his real father, his 
own father wish in the matter ? If the Major 
were to come to his side now, if he were to leave 
Heaven for a time, for half a day, and walk into 
the rose garden and sit down by him, and hold his 
hand and talk the sort of words he put into let- 
ters, what would he desire ? Jerry thought and 
thought, and the more he thought, the stronger 
did he feel and the calmer. 

“ Why, I have got his letters ! ” he said to him- 
self. ‘‘ His letters will tell me everything. 
Dear father ! He must have guessed that God 
would soon send for him to live in Heaven ; he 
must have known that he could not write me 
letters from there. It’s a sad pity that, for I 
can’t see why it shouldn’t be managed. But he 
can’t do it ; every one says so ; there is a gulf 
fixed. I wonder what that means. I s’pose he 
knew about it when he was on earth, and that is 
why he put such a lot of lovely words in his letters. 
I have nine of ’em. I’d like to read them over ; 
most likely they’ll tell me something. They are 
better than the Bible : I call them father’s Bible. 
They come closer to me even than the Bible, 


134 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

though that is very beautiful, more particular the 
part which speaks of the Golden City, and the 
Pearly Gates, and the River of Life. I wish I 
were there ; but Pve got to live here, ’cause of 
mother. And I mustn’t be a cripple, ’cause of 
her, for she can’t bear it. I will read father’s 
letters.” 

Dolly came into the garden. She was a rosy- 
faced round sort of girl. She invariably wore a 
smile. There was nothing very deep about 
Dolly, but she was thoroughly pleasant, and she 
had given her warm heart to Jerry. She came 
across the lawn now and stood and looked at him. 

“ Why, Master Fitzgerald,” she said, ‘‘ you 
don’t look well. I do hope Sir Arnold didn’t 
hurt you much. Master Jerry.” 

‘‘ Thank you, Dolly,” replied Jerry. “ The 
great doctor only hurt me what was necessary. 
We mustn’t grumble at little pains, must we, 
Dolly ? ” 

“ Oh,” said Dolly, I don’t know. I mostly 
cry when I have the toothache.” 

You’re a girl,” said Jerry, very gently, “ You 
have a right to cry.” 

’Spect I have,” said Dolly. 

I ’spect it’s rather nice,” said Jerry, looking 
full up at her. 

“ Nice to cry ? ” said Dolly. No, ’taint ; 
it makes you feel bad, and your eyes get so 
red.” 

‘‘They don’t smart at the back, though,” 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 135 

said Jerry. “ When a man feels a thing pretty 
sharp, his eyes smart at the back. They don’t 
cry, men don’t.” 

Shall I give you your lunch. Master Jerry ? ” 
said Dolly, who always found Jerry’s talk just a 
trifle beyond her. 

“ Oh, please,” said Jerry. “ I am hungry, and 
I’d like to eat it outside here in the garden.” 

That is what I thought,” said Dolly. “ The 
Colonel and your mother and Miss Mabel are 
all in the inner drawing-room. They’re talking 
rather loud, and I think Miss Mabel is crying.” 

“ What can it be about ? ” thought Jerry. 
But he made no remark. He did not wish to 
speak about his family, even to a nice girl like 
Dolly. 

She ^brought out his lunch and^ he ate it, and 
then he asked her to fetch the precious little 
wooden box. He gave her very particular direc- 
tions as to where she was to find it. She was to 
handle it with extreme care and bring it straight 
out to him, and then she was to go away. 

‘‘ But mayn’t I sit and read aloud to you, sir ? ” 

“ No, thank you,” said Jerry, with great dignity. 

I have something more ’portant to do ; and I 
do not wish to be interrupted.” 

‘‘ Very well, sir,” said Dolly. 

She went into the house, and carrying out 
Jerry’s minute directions, found the box. As 
she was carrying it through the hall, she came 
suddenly across her mistress, who demanded in 
a very cross tone what she was doing. 


136 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

‘‘ I am taking this box to Master Fitzgerald, 
ma’am. He is l^ing in the hammock.” 

“ What a hideous thing ! ” said Mrs. Digby. 

She paused for a minute, as though she were 
half inclined to take the box from Dolly, but, 
reconsidering the matter, passed on upstairs into 
her own room. Jerry received his box, little 
guessing what an escape he had had of never seeing 
it again. He held out both his hands for it, and 
laid it with extreme reverence in the hammock 
by his side. 

You can go away, Dolly,” he said, ‘‘ and 
tell anybody that may be ‘ acquiring ’ about me 
that I don’t wish to be ‘ atturbed.’ ” 

‘‘ Very well, sir.” 

Dolly went. All was silence and peace in the 
rose garden. This was the time of day when even 
the birds were silent. Nature seemed to sleep* 
There was a brooding peace over the world. 

Jerry fumbled at the ribbon round his throat, 
produced the badly made key, and opened the 
poor lock. The precious nine letters lay within. 
He counted them, laying them in two rows 
before him. Which should he read ? The 
last letter ? Oh, but he knew that by heart, he 
did not need to read it ; it was engraven on his 
little mind. The words of that letter were 
always shining before his mental vision. It was 
too precious to be opened, except sometimes on 
Sunday evenings when he was quite alone, or 
sometimes when the pain in his hip caused him 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 


^37 

to wake at night and he could look at the letter 
kneeling hy his bedroom window, with the moon 
and stars shining down on him. But even in his 
great pain, he did not think that he could read 
letter No. 9 just then. Which letter, therefore, 
should he choose ? He put letter No. 9 back into 
the box. Then he shut his eyes and whispered 
under his breath : 

‘‘ God in Heaven please help a little boy to 
choose the right letter.” 

With his eyes still shut, he fumbled for a minute, 
selected a letter blindfold and then, opening his 
eyes, put all the rest back into the box. This 
letter he read with extreme care and thought. 
It was really letter No. 8, and was more advanced, 
therefore, in its teaching than any other letter 
except the precious letter No. 9. 

The words of the letter ran as follows : 

“ My little Son, — 

‘‘ I am at the hill country with mother. 
Mother isn’t very strong. I often wish that she 
were back in England with you. But you are not 
strong enough to come to her, and she, your dear 
mother, cannot bear to be so far from me. The 
great longing of my heart is that you and she and 
I shall be together. Some day, we shall. 

“ My own little boy, I wish I could half explain 
to you how beautiful your mother is. When you 
meet her, you will, I am sure, find that she is 
almost without any faults. 


138 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

‘‘ Now, I want to tell you something. I am 
going away to-morrow morning to a distant part 
of this wonderful country of India. I am going 
with a number of my own soldiers to fight the 
King’s enemies ; and it is just possible that I may 
be wounded in battle, and that if my wound is 
very bad, God may take me away from this 
world to Heaven. I cannot tell you what Heaven 
is like, but you will read for yourself in the Bible ; 
that is the best description we have of it, and I 
think it is enough to satisfy anybody. 

“ Now, I want you, if such a thing happens, to 
be awfully good to your mother, and to think no 
sacrifice too great to please her. If it should 
happen that I go to Heaven before you, my Jerry 
boy, I want you to take great care of your mother, 
and not to mind even suffering, for your mother’s 
sake.” 

There were other words in the letter, but Jerry 
had read enough. He folded it, softly kissed it 
with his childish lips, returned it to its envelope 
and, locking the precious box, put the key back 
inside his dress. 

He had just done this when he saw the Colonel 
coming across the grass. 

“ Hallo, kid ! ” called the Colonel ; ‘‘ and how 
are you to-day ? ” 

‘‘ Very well indeed, thank you,” answered 
Jerry, who had been so much excited and stimu- 
lated by the letter, and by the sudden resolve 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 139 

which had come over him, that he no longer felt 
the pain in his hip. 

“ I say ; you have quite a colour ! ” said 
Digby. 

He sank into a great garden chair which stood 
near the hammock and made his usual request. 

“ May I smoke, Jerry boy ?” 

“ In course, Colonel,’’ replied Jerry. 

They always smiled over this little ceremony, 
which the Colonel had once informed Jerry was 
essential to the true manners of a gentleman. 
The Colonel filled his pipe, Jerry sitting up now 
in his hammock and holding his tobacco pouch 
for him. 

“ Let me squeeze in the tobacco, won’t you ? 
I has smaller fingers than you and can make it go 
in tighter.” 

The Colonel acceded to his request. Jerry 
was much interested and took some time over it. 
Then he asked for further permission. Might 
he strike the match for the Colonel to light the 
pipe with ? Again the Colonel replied in the 
affirmative, and when all the ceremony connected 
with this daily smoke had come to an end, Jerry 
lay back contentedly to watch the filmy smoke 
as it rose on the summer air. He was not much 
inclined to talk, however ; his heart was too full 
of thoughts. The Colonel had quite finished 
his pipe before he uttered a word ; and Jerry, 
who knew him quite well by this time, began to 
guess that something was troubling him. His 


140 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

red face was redder than ever, and there were 
lines between his brows. His eyes, too, although 
they looked with extreme kindliness and affection 
at the child, had a hard expression. 

At last the pipe was finished, and returned once 
more to its place in the Colonel’s pocket. Jerry 
lay very still. He was thinking of his real father, 
of letter No. 8, and of his mother. The Colonel 
said — 

“ A penny for your thoughts, kid.” 

Jerry answered with promptitude. 

“ I am thinking. Colonel, that there’s nothing 
in all the wide world I would not do for my own 
mother.” 

“ Jove ! ” murmured the Colonel. He stared 
again at the small boy. After a pause, he said, 
“ We need not talk about that just now, need 
we ? ” 

“ Not unless you wish it. Colonel,” said 
Jerry. 

“ I want to tell you what the doctor from 
London has said about you. You would like to 
hear, wouldn’t you ? ” 

“ Oh, so much ! ” said Jerry. ‘‘ I’d like it just 
awful,” he continued. “ I liked his hands, they 
were so cool, and so strong.” 

“ Yes,” said the Colonel ; ‘‘ Sir Arnold is a 
very great man.” 

‘‘ Is that why they call him ‘ Sir ’ ? ” asked 
Jerry. 

“ I don’t know ; his title doesn’t matter ; but 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 


141 

perhaps he did get it because he has been success- 
ful in curing people.” 

“ Like the Great Physician,” said Jerry. “ I 
thought him, my own self, wonderful like Jesus 
Christ.” 

“ Ah,” said the Colonel. “ Well, you see 
there is a difference ; miracles are left out in 
these days.” 

Please, I don’t understand,” said Jerry. 

And you needn’t, boy ; don’t trouble your 
head with that sort of thing. Now I want to 
speak to you.” 

“ I’m ready,” said Jerry. 

He had never looked more frail, but, at the 
same time perhaps, never more manly. Those 
eyes with the appealing, shining light in them 
were enough, as the Colonel expressed it, to bowl 
any man over. The Colonel was beginning not 
to believe in women : he thought them a very 
hard, poor lot. He was glad that Major Ramsey’s 
child was a boy. He certainly could not have 
managed one of the girl sex. 

“ Now listen,” he said. “ Sir Arnold Brewster 
knows more about your case than any one else in 
the world.” 

‘‘ My case, what is my case ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ Oh, your — ^your lameness.” 

“ He will cure it, won’t he ? ” said Jerry. 

“ Well,” — the Colonel hesitated — “ no, I don’t 
think so — not at present.” 

“ No ? ” said Jerry, creeping to the edge of 


142 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

the hammock. “ What does you mean, please, 
Colonel ? ” 

“ I mean this, my boy. There is danger in 
curing you. The chances are that we might cure 
you so well that you might fly away from us, 
Jerry.” Jerry looked right up at the skies. 

“ Fly away, have wings ? ” he said. 

“ That sort of thing ; it wouldn’t at all suit 
me, you understand that.” 

‘‘ I am apprised you should say so. Colonel,” 
said Jerry. He put his little hand into that of 
the Colonel. 

“ I say it, and I mean it,” said the Colonel. 

1 want to keep you. I married her, your 
mother, because I wanted you. You have got 
to stay with a lonely man, Jerry boy, and the best 
way you can stay with him is to be contented 
and bear a bit of pain. You will be lame ; you 
are a brave little chap, and it is far better that you 
should know the truth. Sir Arnold suggested an 
alternative, and I have made my choice. You 
stay as you are ; I will take precious good care of 
you. You will learn from books, and you will 
have everything that boy can need, and when you 
are big enough you shall have a pony to ride, and 
carriages to drive in, and until that time comes 
there’s my broad shoulder at your service, Jerry 
boy, you won’t miss much. I thought I’d tell 
you that you are not to be put to fresh pain, and 
I thought I’d also tell you that the pain you suffer 
at present can be greatly mitigated — — ” 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 143 

Mitigated ? What’s that,” interrupted 
Jerry. 

‘‘ Lessened, made so slight you will scarcely 
feel it.” 

“ I understand ; go on,” said Jerry. 

“ Mitigated,” continued the Colonel, by a 
new treatment which Sir Arnold proposes. So 
that is the end of his visit, Jerry ; and we are as 
we are. You are my boy, and — there, it’s out at 
last — I love you.” 

A very long pause followed these words. The 
little hand which was rather hot lay prone in the 
big one of Colonel Digby. The Colonel could 
feel a pulse throbbing in the small palm. It 
throbbed fast and hard. He did not like to look 
at the boy, and the boy avoided looking at him. 

The pause was broken at last. It was broken 
by Jerry’s removing his little hand and saying in 
a very courteous voice. 

“ I love you back like anything. You are my — 
Colonel ; and I’d do a-most anything to please 
you. But I can’t do what you want.” 

“ Jove ! ” said the Colonel. ‘‘ Now what does 
the boy mean ? ” 

“ ’Cause,” continued Jerry, “ you are not my 
father, and my father wishes me to do something 
quite different.” 

“ You must explain.” 

Jerry looked at him with great wisdom in his 
eyes. 

“ You has told me something about what 


144 the COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

great doctor has said, but you hasn’t told me all. 
I can be cured perhaps ; and if I can, I ought to 
be.” 

“ No,” said the Colonel. ‘‘ We won’t talk 
about this any more : I have made up my mind.” 

There was a finality in his tone which caused 
Jerry’s heart almost to stop. He laid his hand 
on the little wooden box and there was a 
beseeching look in his face. 

“ Father’s nine letters are here,” he said, after 
a pause, ‘‘ and I was reading letter No. 8. Per- 
haps you’d read it to your own self. I can’t bear 
to part with any of my letters, ’cause, you know, 
he can’t write to me from Heaven. It’s so 
special hard on me that he can’t, but he just can’t. 
Mrs. Cole said there was a gulf fixed. I don’t 
know quite what she meant ; but if you will read 
to your own self, quite alone, letter No. 8, you 
will understand about me.” 

Jerry removed the key from its place against 
his heart, opened the box and produced the 
letter. The Colonel felt at that moment he 
would rather thrust his hand into the fire than 
accept it. Nevertheless, he could not refuse to 
take it. 

Put it in your inside pocket,” said Jerry, 
“ where it will be kept most precious safe, and 
give it back to me to-morrow day when you has 
read it.” 

The Colonel promised. He felt the situation 
was becoming unbearable. Not for worlds 


LETTER NUMBER EIGHT 145 

would he alter his own determination. He 
had read what seemed to him very little hope in 
the doctor’s words with regard to the operation, 
and he was determined not to risk the child’s 
life. Mere sentiment should not move him. 
The selfish cry of an abominably selfish woman 
should not influence him. 

But he did not at all like the feel of Major 
Ramsey’s letter. He had put it in the pocket 
next his heart, and already he felt as though it 
would act like a blister, and burn him. 

He saw Mabel in the garden and called to her. 

“ Come and read to Jerry,” he said. I am 
going out for a ride,” 


*1 


SO 


CHAPTER XII 


Her Master 


HAT same evening, when Jerry was sound 



A asleep, and perhaps dreaming of his father 
in the country where the streets were of gold and 
the gates of pearl. Colonel Digby had a long con- 
versation with his wife. Mabel had gone to bed 
early. Mabel was not particularly happy ; she 
was in fact much less happy than before her aunt 
had married Colonel Digby ; for the Colonel and 
Jerry between them had managed to open Mabel’s 
eyes. They had shown her that many things, 
which her aunt Cecilia, with her loose principles, 
had considered right, were really wrong. They 
had, in fact, shown Mabel a nobler life and a more 
beautiful path to walk in. In her heart of hearts, 
she considered the Colonel a little hard, neverthe- 
less, she respected him as she had never respected 
human being before. 

But if she respected the Colonel, she loved the 
boy. There was nothing in all the world she 
would not have done for Jerry boy. When she 
went upstairs that evening, she knew quite well 
that a crisis was impending. Her aunt had been 


HER MASTER 


147 

most cross and unreasonable since the doctor’s 
verdict was known. After lunch there had been 
an angry war of words between her and the 
Colonel. The Colonel had declared stoutly that 
he would not allow little Fitz to undergo a risky 
operation. Mrs. Digby absolutely cried over the 
matter. She was certain it was not risky. It 
ought to be performed ; she was sure on the 
point. The Colonel was quite sure on his point, 
and, as usual, in his masterful and determined 
fashion, he subdued the weak, hysterical, vain 
woman. 

When he left her, and went to talk to Jerry, 
Mrs. Digby said a few words to Mabel. 

“ I know at last, Mabel, the life that lies 
before me. The Colonel will become more 
and more infatuated with that child, and will 
give less and less of his time to me. But I have 
made up my mind on one point too. I shall 
not spend many months in this dread house. 
I shall go to London, and, if possible, to the 
Riviera, for the dull part of the winter. You 
must come with me. The Colonel if he chooses, 
can stay behind with Fitz.” 

‘‘ It might be good for Jerry also to spend a 
winter in the South of Europe,” replied Mabel. 

“ Good for him ? ” said Mrs. Digby. “ What 
does it matter what happens to a cripple ? All 
I can say is that your uncle is deliberately 
ruining the boy’s life, and all for a mere fad. 
There is no danger in the operation. A great 


148 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

man like Sir Arnold Brewster would not under- 
take it if there were. I have no patience with 
the Colonel. I ought never to have married 
him, Mabel.” 

Mabel did not answer. She never knew how 
to answer her aunt’s vapid words. While she 
lived with Mrs. Ramsey at Simla, she had com- 
panions and friends innumerable, and many occu- 
pations for her time ; so that Aunt Cecilia’s silly 
speeches, and absurd ways of going on, did not so 
greatly trouble her. But now, at home, she was 
very much thrown on her aunt’s society, and began, 
by the light which the Colonel and Jerry threw 
across her path, to find fresh flaws each day in that 
lady’s character. She escaped, therefore, on this 
occasion, as soon as she could from Mrs. Digby’s 
presence, and Mrs. Digby went up to her 
room. 

There she found Zaidee. Zaidee was very 
respectful to her mistress. She knew exactly how 
to humour her. If Mabel was in poor spirits just 
now, Zaidee’s outlook on life was bright ; for 
Adolphe was gradually but surely yielding to her 
persistent courtship of him, and that little hotel, 
which they might establish together, seemed to 
become less of a phantom place, and more of a 
reality day by day. But Zaidee knew that if she 
was to be as well treated by her mistress at her 
own approaching marriage as she desired, she 
must keep within her good books now. 

“ Well, Zaidee,” said Mrs. Digby, you are, 


HER MASTER 


149 

I presume, looking over my dresses. I want 
several new ones, no doubt.” 

‘‘ That is quite true, madam,” said Zaidee. 

Your marriage took place before you could get a 
full trousseau, and your old, half-mourning things 
will be doubtless not required any longer.” 

‘‘ Certainly not,” said Mrs. Digby ; ‘‘ you are 
welcome to them yourself, Zaidee. Sell them for 
what you can get.” 

Zaidee’s small black eyes gleamed. 

‘‘ Thank you, ma’am,” she answered in a sub- 
missive voice, for it would not do to show much 
gratitude. Her mistress’s cast off clothes were a 
maid’s perquisites. Nevertheless, she knew well 
that the sale of these beautiful garments would 
considerably augment that nest egg, with which 
she hoped to purchase the eligible hotel of the 
future. 

Mrs. Digby sank on the sofa, and Zaidee pre- 
pared to leave the room. 

“ Don’t go,” said Mrs. Digby. Fetch me a 
handkerchief and my eau-de-cologne ; I have a 
headache.” 

The maid complied with her mistress’s require- 
ments. 

That last powder, Zaidee, does not make my 
face up quite so nicely as what you got before.” 

“ I know it, madam,” replied the maid, “ and 
I am writing to Mrs. Sampson on the subject.” 

“ I have to be careful,” continued Mrs. Digby 
not to affear to be made up. You’ll have to 


ISO THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

use your skill. I must have powder and a trifle 
of rouge — ^just a soup f on, but this must be so 
delicately applied that the Colonel will not 
notice it.’’ 

“ It’s easy to deceive men,” said Zaidee with a 
sniff. “ We’ll manage, madam.” 

Mrs. Digby laughed. Zaidee’s ideas were much 
more to her taste than those of any one else in the 
house. She lay back on her sofa now with a hand- 
kerchief soaked in eau-de-cologne applied to her 
forehead. There was no thought, in her shallow 
brain, of a sad and lonely little heart thinking of 
her, struggling to satisfy her ambitions, not far 
away. 

Zaidee, having completed the work she had 
immediately on hand, went and stood at the foot 
of her mistress’s couch. 

You don’t look well, ma’am. I am afraid you 
are a bit anxious about Master Fitz. I did not 
like to inquire what Sir Arnold Brewster had said ; 
but of course we are all, and I in especial, madam, 
anxious to learn the fate of the dear child. I do 
trust, ma’am, there isn’t bad news. It would be a 
terrible affliction to you, with your loving heart.” 

“ You needn’t talk about my heart,” said Mrs. 
Digby. She flung the handkerchief from her 
brow. I don’t mind telling you,” she said ; 
“ the doctor could cure the child — he admitted 
as much — but the Colonel doesn’t wish it.” 

‘‘ Madam ! ” Zaidee’s eyes grew round and 
horrified. 


HER MASTER 


151 

It is true,” said Mrs. Digby. ‘‘ You won’t 
mention it, of course, Zaidee, but the fact is, 
Sir Arnold Brewster believes that if an operation is 
performed the child may recover ; if not, he will 
be a cripple all his days. There is, of course, a 
certain risk in the operation, and because of that 
the Colonel has decided that it is not to be at- 
tempted.” 

“ You mean, ma’am,” said Zaidee, speaking in a 
low tone, “ that — an operation — on Master Fitz 
would be — dangerous ? ” 

‘‘ Well, I can’t exactly say that it amounts to 
danger ; but there is a risk,” said Mrs. Digby. 
‘‘ A risk means anything or — ^nothing ; but the 
Colonel won’t agree.” 

“ Then you wiU always have a cripple son,” said 
Zaidee. Poor madam ! ” 

Zaidee walked to the window, and looked out. 
Mrs. Digby felt sure that the woman was pitying 
her, and tears rose to her own eyes. — Yes, it was a 
terrible fate to have only one child, and that child 
a cripple. 

“ I can’t bear it ! ” she said suddenly, and she 
began to sob. 

“ Oh, madam ! ” said the maid, returning at 
once. “ Don’t, don’t now ! And he’s a dear 
little fellow, when all is said and done.” 

‘‘ He is not a dear little fellow ! ” sobbed Mrs. 
Digby. He is a poor, puny child, who will never 
be a man. Even the faint interest which attaches 
to him as a child will fade away as he grows older. 


152 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

He’ll get that unnatural prematurely aged face 
which partly deformed people have. Oh, it is 
awful, awful ! Zaidee, I don’t know how I can 
bear it ! ” 

‘‘ It’s bitter hard on you, ma’am, I must say ; 
and more particular when things could be put 
straight ! ” 

I shouldn’t mind so much,” continued Mrs. 
Digby, wiping her eyes — for she vkls always care- 
ful not to cry much for fear those brown eyes 
should lose their brightness — “ I shouldn’t so 
greatly mind if it were not for the Colonel ; for 
I could send the child to a sort of very extra- 
refined cripples’ home where he could be looked 
after and have every comfort, and of course educa- 
tion.” 

‘‘ And very good for him too it would be,” said 
Zaidee. Somewhere at the seaside, and with 
an intelligent lady nurse to look after him.” 

“ But J can’t do it,’^ said Mrs. Digby ; ‘‘ for 
the Colonel would not hear of it. He is bewitched 
by the boy. He is determined to have him with 
him — and oh, dear ! it's a dreadful trial to me ! 
I little thought when I married the Colonel that 
he would turn out to be such an obstinate char- 
acter.” 

‘‘ He’s a fine soldierly gentleman for all 
that,” said Zaidee ; “ and that devoted to you, 
ma’am.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Digby. 

“ All gentlemen are devoted to you, ma’am,” 


HER MASTER 


153 

said the maid, and it would be hard if your hus- 
band wasn’t.” 

“ Of course,” said Mrs. Digby : “ but men are 
so very different after marriage from before it. 
It is really most trying ! ” 

“ I sympathize with you, madam,” said Zaidee ; 
‘‘ and more particular as Master Fitz seems to 
have a queer sort of turn in his mind as well as his 
body. He’s not like the everyday little boy. I 
don’t say for a minute that he is not a dear little 
chap ; but when you are alone with him, he talks 
so as to give you the creeps.” 

Mrs. Digby rose to a standing position. 

‘‘ I will go for a drive,” she said. 

Trying as Jerry was, she would not listen to 
Zaidee’s remarks with regard to his so-called faults. 

“ You at least have nothing to do with the 
child,” she said in a severe tone ; and Zaidee per- 
ceived that she had gone too far. 

But as Mrs. Digby took her drive that after- 
noon, in the beautiful victoria built especially 
for her and sent down from London only the 
week before ; as the spirited horses flew over the 
sunny roads, and the lady lay back, in the most 
elegant of driving costumes, against her cushions 
the memory of Zaidee’s words returned to her : 

When you are alone with him, he talks so as to 
give you the creeps.” 

Yes, she felt there was truth in it. There was 
something about Fitz which made her singularly 
uncomfortable — something undefined, myster- 


IS4 THE COLONELS CONQUEST 

ious, in short, unearthly. Mrs. Digby was there- 
fore in by no means a placid mood, when her hus- 
band announced that he meant to have a straight 
talk with her that evening. 

They were alone in one of the drawing-rooms, 
and, after Mabel’s departure, he shut the door in 
a determined manner. Then he drew a chair 
forward and sat within a very short distance of 
his wife. 

Mrs. Digby looked wonderfully young and 
beautiful in the softened lamplight. The ravages 
of time and climate and cosmetics were scarcely 
observable in that chastened light. She resembled 
in a dim sort of fashion the dream lady of the old 
garden. Her figure was as elegant and almost as 
young as ever, and her eyes looked large and soft, 
shaded by their long, fine lashes. The Colonel felt as 
he looked at her, a shadow, just a shadow of that 
old mad passion which had wrecked his early days. 
For the woman who now sat before him he had 
lost the best of life ; because of her he had nur- 
tured hatred in his heart ; and hatred brought 
forth fruits — the fruits of the devil. The Colonel 
could trace many a sharp word, many an act of 
neglect, many a time of cruel indifference to his 
friend, to that hatred of one man which Cecilia 
Fraser’s conduct had awakened within him. In 
short, his nature had been warped; and not until he 
met Major Ramsey’s boy had he felt the revivi- 
fying influence of sunshine and love — the love of 
God shining through the eyes of a little child. 


HER MASTER 


155 


Now the woman who had spoiled his days was 
his wife. She was still beautiful. Digby gazed 
at her, and thought of letter No. 8. Alas, alas ! 
notwithstanding her beauty, the ashes of the past 
would not rekindle : the flame of the Colonel’s 
fierce love had burnt itself out : no action on the 
part of Mrs. Digby could ever revive it. 

Digby was thinking, too, as he looked at his 
wife, of letter No. 8 — Ramsey’s letter to his little 
son. Digby had read it. There was an absolutely 
sincere ring in it. The whole tone of the letter 
was inconceivable to the Colonel. Nevertheless, 
he knew that Major Ramsey believed every word 
he uttered. Major Ramsey — lucky fellow — had 
lived and died without ever finding his wife out. 
It was miraculous — the sort of thing that Digby 
could not have credited for a single moment ; 
but Ramsey’s letter to Jerry had opened his eyes. 

“ Why are you looking at me so fixedly, Cyril ? ” 
said Mrs. Digby impatiently moving her feet. 

“ Because,” replied the Colonel, I have some- 
thing to say. I don’t want to seem to fuss, but 
I want to put something before you in a very 
straight fashion.” 

“ You have an iron heel, and you want to grind 
me under it,” said Mrs. Digby. 

The Colonel moved impatientlj . 

“ That would not be my way of expressing what 
I want to say,” he answered, but if you choose 
so to regard my words, I am not content, but I 
submit. I have married you — you know why.” 


IS6 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Oh, that you had never done it ! ’’ she said ; 
and she flung out her hands with a sudden 
passion. “ Why did I let you ! I could have 
refused.” 

“ Not without considerable unpleasantness to 
yourself,” was his retort. ‘‘ I could have made 
things disagreeable for you. But we need not 
go into this. You are my wife : you have ac- 
cepted the inevitable : there is no use crying 
over spilt milk.” 

“ What a vulgar, commonplace sort of thing to 
say ! ” she retorted. 

“ That is neither here nor there,” was his an- 
swer. “ I want to speak to you about the child.” 

“ The child ? ” she replied. ‘‘ Must Fitz 
always be a bone of contention between us ? ” 

‘‘ Not if you submit to my will.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I mean this, Cecilia. It is incumbent on 
you to say something to your son. You saw him 
to-day after the doctor’s visit ? ” 

‘‘ I did.” 

“ Did you give him any information with regard 
to Sir Arnold Brewster’s opinion ? ” 

“ I told him the truth : I said that he would be 
a cripple all his days unless he submitted.” 

“ Submitted ? ” said the Colonel, springing to 
his feet ‘‘ Now what do you mean ? You said 
those words to a little child — ^you are sure you 
said them ? ” 

Certain : I am not really afraid of you ; 1 


HER MASTER 


IS7 

suppose I may say what I choose to my own 
child ? ” 

“ No,” said Colonel Digby. 

“ No ? ” she answered. 

“ No,” he repeated. “ I stand between the 
child and you as a buffer. I married you because 
I wished to protect the neglected child of the best 
and noblest man who ever lived.” 

“ Cyril ! Then you didn’t love me ? ” 

‘‘ Once I loved you beyond all words. We will 
not talk of that at present. I married you for the 
reason I have stated. Now don’t go into floods 
of tears and hysterics ; that is so weak.” 

But the tears were already streaming down her 
cheeks. 

‘‘ Well,” said the Colonel, “ cry as long as you 
like. You won’t cry too long, for tears with 
you are so unbecoming. When you have mopped 
them up I am ready to proceed.” 

His words acted as a tonic. In a few minutes 
Mrs. Digby, raging with anger but outwardly 
calm, called to him. 

“ Come back, you cruel man ! Say what you 
have to say.” 

“ I wish to know what else you said to the boy. 
If you do not tell me the truth, I shall ask the 
child myself : you have said something more, 
I am certain. I wish to know precisely what it is.” 

‘‘ You need not go to the boy. I told him the 
truth. I said he’d never walk like other boys ; 
that he would be the sort of boy' one must pity 


158 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

and fuss over, and I also said, ‘ If you wish to please 
me, you will submit.’ ” 

“ Thank you,” said Digby. Now I under- 
stand ; that is quite enough.” 

His face looked so stern, there was such an 
extraordinarily fierce light in his eyes that Mrs. 
Digby earnestly wished herself safe in her room. 
After a time. Colonel Digby spoke. 

“ It is quite hopeless,” he said, “ even to try to 
explain to you the effect of those words on a 
sensitive little fellow like Jerry. I guessed that 
something had happened from his manner.” 

“ He complained of me, then ? ” 

“ He complained of you ? ” said the Colonel. 
“ He would die for you. He has put you on a pedes- 
tal. Major Ramsey never saw through you : he pnt 
you on a pedestal, and the boy keeps you there. 
Listen. It is really breaking no confidence. I have 
something to read to you.” The Colonel took 
Major Ramsey’s letter from the pocket which 
lay close to his heart. 

“ Your little son,” he said as he opened it, 
“ gave me this to read. The fact is, he wishes to 
submit to that which may cost him his life, and 
he has strengthened his resolve by a letter which 
his dead father wrote to him and which, most 
unfortunately for me, bears upon the very point in 
question, for it suggests any amount of sacrifice to 
be undertaken for you. Now, pray listen. On 
top of your cruel words, the child read the follow- 
ing letter. You need not hear it all : the last 


HER MASTER 


IS9 

clause is sufficient. The Major was speaking to 
his son about the possibility of his own death.” 

“ Very morbid, I am sure,” murmured Mrs. 
Digby. 

“ Ah, well,” said the Colonel, ‘‘ I can’t expect 
you to understand, but these were his final words. 
They were the words of a man who never found 
you out. ‘ I want you,’ he said, ‘ to be awfully 
kind to your mother and to think no sacrifice too 
great to please her. If it should happen that I go 
to Heaven before you, I want you to take great 
care of your mother and not to mind even suffer- 
ing for your mother’s sake.’ ” 

The Colonel folded up the letter and returned 
it reverently to the place next his heart. 

‘‘ Imagine,” he said, looking at the woman, 
‘‘ what that letter meant to little Jerry.” 

‘‘ It was a very proper letter to write,” answered 
Mrs. Digby. “ My poor late husband — he was 
a good fellow ; I loved him dearly once.” 

The Colonel swore under his breath and, 
getting up, began to pace the room. Alas ! Jerry 
boy, young as he was, was wiser than Colonel 
Digby. He could grasp limitations, the Colonel 
could not. According to Jerry, his mother was 
not to be blamed for what she did not possess. 
But the Colonel blamed her : he hated her 
furiously at that moment. 

“ Now listen,” he said. ‘‘ You are more or 
less in my power. I don’t mean for an instant 
that I shall be cruel to you ; but I can limit those 


i6o THE COLONEL'S CONQUEST 


pleasures which are to you the be-all of life. I 
can, in short, make myself disagreeable without 
giving you a single shadow of came of real com- 
plaint against me. You yourself are wise enough 
to understand the vast difference between a man in 
a good temper and in a bad. I, of all people under 
the sun, can make others uncomfortable when I 
resemble a bear with a sore head.’’ 

“ You are so commonplace ! ” she muttered. 

“ I am sorry that my metaphors don’t please 
you, but they come naturally to me. I am a blunt 
person and I speak out freely. ’^’ 

What do you want me to do ? ” she asked. 

“ I want you to-morrow to unsay those words to 
the child. I want you to assure him that nothing 
in all the world could give you greater pain than his 
undergoing a dangerous operation for your sake. 
He will believe you, if you speak with force. I 
want the alternative made by Sir Arnold Brew- 
ster to be removed from the child’s mind. He is 
to reconcile himself to the fact that for the present, 
perhaps for long years, he will be lame. He is to 
feel that in submitting to this he pleases his 
mother, his father in heaven, and the man he calls 
‘ Colonel.’ The other alternative is to be pre- 
sented to him as impossible, and one not to be acted 
on. My fixed resolve is that nothing will induce 
me to allow the boy to have an operation at pres- 
ent. I do not say for a moment that I shall not 
when he is older and stronger seek further advice 
for him, and, if possible — I only say if possible — 


HER MASTER 


i6i 


I may then allow him to undergo what would at 
present be dangerous. Now, Cecilia, you under- 
stand what I wish you to do. Will you do it ? ” 
She looked at him and all of a sudden he saw the 
shallow nature of the woman through those eyes 
which, notwithstanding all that art could do to 
add to their beauty, were hard and cold as a stone. 
There was no real mother heart within her. He 
gave a faint sigh. After all, would not Jerry boy 
be happiest and safest with his father ? 

Mrs. Digby closed her lips firmly. The 
Colonel waited with his arms folded. 

Will you speak ? ” he said, after a pause, 

‘‘ Yes,” she answered then. I promise not 
to interfere and for the present I will keep away 
from the boy. Perhaps you will let me go to 
London for a little with Mabel.” 

“ No ; you stay here.” 

Very well ; the place is large : I need not be 
much with the boy ; I won’t interfere.” 

“ Cecilia,” said the Colonel, “ you must.” He 
clasped her wrist and held it firmly. “ To- 
morrow morning, in my presence, as you will not 
do it alone, you speak to Jerry. Now come up- 
stairs to bed.” 

She shrank : she trembled ; but she knew that 
she had found her master. 


XIL 


CHAPTER XIII 


“ I have hurt him,” thought Jerry 

I T was a glorious day, and Jerry boy lay in tlie 
hammock in the sunlit garden. He was 
anxiously waiting for the Colonel to appear in 
order that he might receive letter No. 8 back 
again. He felt restless without it. It seemed 
to him that a very precious part of himself had 
been removed. His heart ached far more for 
the loss of the letter than it did for that other 
fact, that the great physician could not cure him 
unless he submitted. 

Of course, he had fully made up his mind to 
submit, whatever that might mean, but he was 
not thinking so much about that now as about 
the letter. No. 8 was such a very precious letter, 
the last but one that he ever could receive from 
that king of men, his father. 

Presently, Mabel came across the grass to his 
side. 

What are you doing. May ? ’’ asked the boy. 
She carried a large basket and a pair of garden 
scissors in her hand. 

‘‘ I am going to pick lots and lots, whole quan- 
tities of roses, Jerry boy,’’ was her answer. 

162 


I HAVE HURT HIM 


163 

“ What for ? he inquired. 

There is to be a school treat in the village, 
and the vicar has sent to beg for some flowers, 
so I am gathering them. Shall I come and show 
them to you when my basket is quite full ? ” 

“ It is a big basket,” said Jerry, with a look 
of appreciation. “ Yes, do bring it back when it 
is heaped full of roses, for Fd dearly like to sniff 
at ’em.” 

‘‘ I will,” said Mabel, and she went off. 

She was a graceful young creature, and always 
moved with a sort of springing step as if she had 
great difficulty in keeping herself from dancing. 
Jerry watched her with a queer sensation at his 
heart. 

It must be nice to walk in that light sort of 
way. It must be nice to skim almost like a butter- 
fly about the world. If he submitted, and if 
things came out right, he would be able to walk 
like Mabel : nay, more ; being a boy — the sort 
of boy who would be a man by and by, he could 
and would do many things which Mabel, as a girl, 
was not able to undertake. For Jerry’s idea with 
regard to girls was quite old-fashioned. He had 
never met the modern girl who is so keen at all 
manly sports, who adores gymnastics, and per- 
forms feats of daring of every sort and descrip- 
tion. Girls, in his opinion, should always look 
soft and gentle ! they should be like his mother 
and, like Mabel herself, graceful in every move- 
ment. 


i 64 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ It will just take a little time,” he said to him- 
self ; ‘‘ and then Pll be like other boys ; FU come 
safe through, I think : I mean, I ’spec’ I will ; 
and even if I don’t — darling mother doesn’t want 
a cripple, why should she ? poor dear ! Cripples 
are a nuisance — I’ll either come out all right or 
I’ll go to my father.” 

His heart throbbed at the thought. To be always 
in the presence of that person who had written him 
letters, to walk with him in the land where there 
were no cripple boys, to talk with him by the hour 
about that innermost soul which he had never yet 
succeeded in finding in his mother, but which his 
father had found and prized so dearly — oh, surely, 
in any case, there was no doubt that he must sub- 
mit. He was to submit to something : of course 
he would submit. The dear, darling Colonel did 
not like it ; but the Colonel was not his own father, 
and even he must not judge in this matter ; 
Jerry must judge for himself. 

‘‘ When I am awfully strong — a public school- 
boy and have done a great big thing at foot- 
ball, won my first colours or something of that 
sort, then I will find mother’s heart,” thought 
the child. “ Yes, it’s all right : only I do want 
letter No. 8 back again.” 

Just then he heard voices, the low, sweet voice 
of a woman and the deep manly voice of the man 
he loved next best to his father, his own beloved 
Colonel Digby. His mother and the Colonel 
were talking together, and the voices were com- 


‘‘ I HAVE HURT HIM ” 165 

ing nearer. They did not proceed from the 
other side of the lawn, but were evidently ap- 
proaching him from a shrubbery which ran at the 
back of the trees where the hammocks were slung. 
Then all of a sudden they appeared in view, 
his mother wearing the softest grey dress with her 
white parasol again unfurled, and a white hat with 
a wreath of roses on her head. Oh, how young 
she looked, almost as young as Mabel, and how 
very lovely ! 

She dropped into a chair near the boy, and the 
Colonel, who by contrast looked almost old, so 
stern was his heart at that instant, so full of in- 
tense pity for the child and intense loathing for 
the woman, stood just behind her. 

Mummy ! ” said Jerry. 

She raised her eyes. It seemed to Jerry that 
he could look into their depths ; it seemed to 
him, too, that they had depths which the Colonel 
had never penetrated. Her eyes looked quite 
sorry this morning ; it was wonderful how sweet 
they looked when they were sorrowful. In truth, 
Mrs. Digby was intensely sorry for herself, but 
Jerry could not guess that. 

I have come to say,” she began, ‘‘ that I 
wish you to put out of your head ” — she paused, 
and swallowed something in her throat — “ to 
put out of your head ” 

“ Yes, mummy.” 

‘‘ I should so greatly prefer you to call me 
mother.” 


i66 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Oh — I am awful sorry ! ” said Jerry. ‘‘ Yes, 
mother.” 

“ To put out of your head — the words I uttered 
yesterday ” 

“ Might I hold your hand ? ” interrupted 
Jerry. 

Mrs. Digby longed to say, “ No.” She con- 
sidered all these loving ways of her little boy 
sickly sentiment. But the Colonel came a step 
nearer, and his presence impelled her. She held 
out her slim hand, and the boy laid his in it. With 
his other hand he stroked her white fingers. 

You is so beautiful, mother ! ” he said in a 
sort of rapture. 

He had absolutely forgotten the Colonel in 
his delight. There was no doubt he was getting 
nearer to that precious, most precious heart of 
hers. He kept stroking and stroking her hand. 
Her dazzling rings seemed to be part of that 
white hand ; they shone so as almost to hurt him. 
He considered them as fresh tokens of her great 
beauty. How he longed beyond words to pour 
out a little of that love for her which was swelling 
within him. 

“ You had better be quick, Cecilia,” said the 
Colonel. 

The boy gave her hand a squeeze. He meant 
her to understand by that, that he didn’t mind 
in the very least how slow she was in talking. She 
allowed her hand to remain where his little brown 
fingers could touch it, and continued, hastily — 



You is so Beautiful, Mother!” He Said, 





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«I HAVE HURT HIM” 


167 

You are to forget what I said yesterday. I 
don’t mind about your being a cripple ; you 
can’t be anything else, ’tisn’t your fault there is 
nothing to be done : it would be dangerous to 

do anything, and I ” she made a very long 

pause — “ don’t wish it.” 

The immense effort with which the last words 
were uttered now revealed in a flash the whole 
situation to Jerry. She did wish it. It was 
like her nobleness, like that great heart which 
lay so deep within, that she should speak as she did. 
He let go her hand. He felt very happy. 

‘‘ Darling ! ” he said ; “ you is sweet ! ” 

Mrs. Digby rose. “ Is there anything more. 
Colonel Digby? ” she asked, turning and addressing 
her husband. 

“ I think Jerry boy would like you to kiss him, 
Cecilia,” said Colonel Digby. 

Mrs. Digby stooped and laid a feather kiss on 
the child’s white forehead, then turning without 
a word she went, not across the lawn but back 
to the house through the shrubbery. 

The Colonel flung himself into the chair which 
Mrs. Digby had occupied. Jerry looked at him 
with shining eyes. 

Didn’t I tell you ? ” remarked Jerry. 

“ What, kid, what ? ” 

‘‘ That she was just splendid. Wasn’t my own 
father right ? and please. Colonel, have you got 
letter No. 8 ? and will you give it back to me ? ” 

“ I have it here,” said the Colonel. “ I under- 


i68 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

stand your father better than I did. I owe 
your father more than I can ever repay. Thank 
you for showing it to me. It was a great con- 
fidence on your part, and I respect it accordingly. 
Now what shall we do with ourselves ? I think 
we must plan out our time. All that which occurred 
yesterday is settled, you know. You go on as you 
were. Sir Arnold Brewster is writing to our local 
doctor to give him some directions with regard to 
certain exercises which you may take with con- 
siderable advantage to your health. You must 
also keep lying down for several hours each day. 
That part of your education, Jerry boy, was rather ' 
neglected in the past. Now it must be attended 
to. But you won’t mind that, old chap, for I 
have nothing special to do, and can sit with you 
a good bit, and read to you, and tell you tiger stories. 

I have lots more in my vocabulary, and when I 
have exhausted all the tiger escapes, and snake 
escapes I have undergone myself, I can tell you 
what happened to other men in my regiment, 
and when we have got through that list, we can 
fall back on the brave men of history. I vote 
that we always have a story of something brave 
to talk over each day. That sort of thing will 
stimulate us both, eh ? ” 

The Colonel stopped speaking abruptly, for 
Jerry boy had made no reply of any sort. After 
his rapturous speech with regard to his mother, 
he lay silent. His eyes were wide open, with 
their most pathetic, most intensely Major-Ramsey 


I HAVE HURT HIM ” 169 

expression in them. The Colonel, in spite of him- 
self, recalled a dying man in a tent, and the look 
in the man’s eyes. These eyes had haunted him 
for the best years of his life, and he had hated them 
and the man, almost to the point of murder. 
Hatred is of the devil. In its unholy soil, all 
that was bad in Colonel Digby had borne fruit. 
He was too naturally straight and honourable 
to neglect his duties. Money temptations had 
never appealed to him. Besides, he always had 
plenty. He was no gambler. He was moderate 
with regard to wine. But there are sins, as deadly 
as these, which had taken root within him, and 
all because of that poisonous weed of hatred, and 
these sins had hardened him, crushing out his 
sympathies, starving his affections, making him 
cruel when he might be kind, causing him over 
and over again to keep back the encouraging and 
kindly word, to repress the generous action. 

Colonel Digby had never seen himself in the 
light which only God’s truth can reveal, until 
he knelt by Major Ramsey’s deathbed. Then 
hatred died, and a strange pathetic and remorse- 
ful love for the man who had given up his life 
for his country took possession of him. He felt 
that love now, and recalled the old scene as he 
looked into Jerry boy’s eyes. He knew that 
the victory which he hoped he had won over the 
child and his mother was in reality not won at 
all. He had conquered the mother — poor, weak, 
despicable creature — but what about the boy ? 


170 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

The glib words he was saying dropped awa}^ 
into silence. Jerry had very reverently taken 
his father’s letter, and holding it tightly in both 
his little hands, raised himself in the hammock, 
and spoke. 

“ You see. Colonel,” he said, this letter was 
wrote by my own father.” 

“ And a capital letter it is,” said Colonel Digby. 
“ But I say, we must attend to — ah, here comes 
Mabel. My dear Mabel, you look like the queen 
of all the roses. What quantities you have 
cuUed ! ” 

“Yes, haven’t I, Uncle Cyril ? ” replied Mabel 
in her cheery voice. Now, Jerry, take a 
sniff.” 

Jerry buried his little white face in the roses. 
The basket was heaped full of blossoms and long 
trailing branches of clustering roses hung over 
the sides. Never to his dying day did the Colonel 
forget that strong smell of roses, the face of the 
pretty girl as she bent over the boy, and the ex- 
pression in the boy’s eyes. 

“ Jove,” he muttered ; “ I have a battle be- 
fore me with that little chap, but he is not going 
to win, not if I know it.” 

Mabel skipped away across the lawn, carrying 
her spoils. Jerry watched her. 

“ I’d like to run like Mabel,” he said. 

It was the Colonel’s turn to be silent. Jerry 
again pressed his letter close to his heart. 

“ Colonel, ” he said. 


“ I HAVE HURT HIM 


171 

“ Boy ? ” answered the Colonel. 

“Does you mind, Colonel, if I talk to you 
very — sort of rudely ? ’’ 

The Colonel laughed. 

“You may talk to me as you please; I give 
you permission,” he said. 

“ You see,” said Jerry, “ it’s this way. Mother 
said yesterday that if I submitted, I wouldn’t 
be a cripple. You have read father’s letter. 
Father wishes the same : it’s wrote as plain as 
possible in the letter. Now, Colonel, I must 
obey father : you see that, don’t you ? ” 

“ No, I don’t,” said the Colonel. “ I mean,” 
he added, correcting himself at once, “ that letter 
of your father’s was written without in the least 
knowing the special cirumstances in which you 
are now placed. You think me hard, but I am 
hard to be kind. You are only a very little boy. 
I am a man — not even a young man; I am a 
man of the world. If your father were alive, 
he would of course be the person to decide, 
he would be the person to be consulted. I 
was with your father when he died, Jerry boy ; 
some day I will tell you about that, but not — not 
now. His last words were uttered to me ; they 
were about you, and your mother. In consequence, 
I find it my bounden duty to take care of you, and 
I could best take care of you by becoming — now 
don’t misunderstand me, lad — in the eyes of 
che law, your father. I am not your father ; you 
and I know all about that, but having married 


172 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

your mother, I have the right to control you and 
to do what is best for you.’’ 

“ No,” said Jerry. 

What do you mean, Jerry boy ? ” 

“ I mean,” said Jerry, his lips trembling a 
little, but still speaking with great firmness, “ that 
I has to obey my own father, even though he is in 
Heaven country. It is hard fathers isn’t let 
write letters to their little boys from Heaven ; 
but it’s all put down in letter No. 8. Now, 
isn’t it. Colonel ? ” 

No answer whatever from the Colonel but a 
glum face, firm obstinate lips, gloomy eyes — 
altogether a new Colonel in Jerry boy’s ex- 
perience. It hurt him intensely, that look on 
the face of one of his best friends, his greatest of 
all friends next to his own father and his mother. 
He had to steady himself before he went on again, 
and to push forcibly back those smarting tears 
which would approach his eyes at the back. 
If only it were right for boys to cry ! 

“ You see,” he said — the Colonel apparently 
saw nothing, he was looking down at his boots — 
“ you see,” persisted Jerry, “ my mother, she — 
she doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve. Colonel.” 

“ Jove ! ” muttered the Colonel. 

‘‘ But she come her own self and told me that 
she did not want it done. I don’t know what it 
means. She said she didn’t mind having a cripple 
boy — it was just splendid of her ! But, Colonel, I 
saw into her heart when she spoke. Oh, she has 


I HAVE HURT HIM ’’ 


173 


got such a beautiful, deep heart — I saw into her 
heart through her sorry eyes, and I know she’d 
just give all the world for me to run like Mabel 
and be a brave schoolboy — some day, and to fight 
tigers like you did — some day. And father’d 
wish it ’cause of her. So please. Colonel, it must 
be.” 

The Colonel jumped up abruptly, shock some 
of the petals of the roses, from Mabel’s basket off 
his coat and walked away from Jerry. He did 
not go out of sight, but he paced quickly up and 
down. 

“ I wish he’d smoke,” thought Jerry. ‘‘ It 
sort o’ quiets him to smoke. ’Spec’ he marched 
about like that when he was expecting a tiger to 
jump out of a thicket. He is wonderful — ^is 
Colonel. I do love him awful much. Seems a 
pity I has to hurt him, but I sort of must.” 

By and by the Colonel returned. 

“ You’ll forgive me, Fitzgerald,” he said, “ but 
I had to control myself. I am a man of strong 
passions.” 

‘‘ Oh, I know,” said Jerry ; “ things that sort 
of boil up inside you ; I has ’em too.” 

“ You ? ” Bless the child ! ” murmured the 
Colonel. 

He drew his chair closer to the little fellow 
now, and said in grave voice — 

“ I am going to put the case before you. As a 
rule, I should not dream of consulting a little 
chap as young as you, but bless you, lad, you are 


174 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

not like the ordinary boy. You have lived through 
a good bit and you have got the gift of understand- 
ing. You have also got a queer power — ^you 
can bowl over a hardened old sinner like myself. 
It is exceedingly wrong of you to use that power, 
and I must request you to be careful in the future.” 

“ Don’t understand you one bit,” said Jerry. 
“ What’s bowl over ? ” 

“ I won’t trouble to explain just now, but what 
I really want to say is this. I want to tell you 
about yourself. Sir Arnold Brewster examined 
you very carefully yesterday.” 

“ ’Course,” said Jerry — ‘‘ a great doctor like 
Jesus Christ. His hands were so wonderful 
kind ” 

“ And so is his heart,” said the Colonel, ‘‘ and 
so also were his words ; you haven’t heard his 
words yet. You would like to hear them^ wouldn’t 
you ? ” 

‘‘ Don’t make no differ,” said Jerry, but 
’course I’ll listen.” 

“ You will have to. It is an extraordinary 
thing for a man like me to have to put a case 
of this kind before a little chap of your age, but 
your peculiar state of mind requires it. Now 
what the doctor said was this. He said that if 
nothing was done ” — ^Jerry’s face became verv 
wistful — “ you would continue much as you are 
now, getting most likely a little stronger, but not 
less lame, although, as I told you yesterday, 
means would be taken to avert ” 


I HAVE HURT HIM ” 


I7S 


‘‘ What’s avert ? ” 

‘‘ To prevent,” said the Colonel, “ the pain 
you have sometimes endured.” 

“Not worth talking of,” said Jerry. “ Rather 
like it — ’minds me of father — can read his letters 
when pain’s worst. Have nine of ’em, you 
know.” 

“ Yes, yes,” said the Colonel. “ But listen to me, 
boy — the doctor said, that there was no danger 
whatever to your life, and perhaps in a few 
years something might be done to make you — well, 
not quite like other boys, but better than you are 
now. In short, he said this : that when you are 
older, about twelve or thirteen, if you went on 
getting stronger you might have — ^well, an opera- 
tion performed which would help without curing 
you.” 

“ Seems sort of puzzling,” said Jerry. 

“ Of course it is, Jerry boy, and that’s why I 
didn’t want to worry you about it. Little boys 
don’t understand these things” 

“ But he said more,” said Jerry. 

The Colonel was half hoping that Jerry 
would not ask him this question. He sighed 
and proceeded. 

“ I have promised to tell you the truth. Here 
it is. He said that now, at once, he could perform 
an operation.” 

“ What is that ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ Well, you would know nothing about it. 
He would put you to sleep and do it while you were 


176 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

asleep, and when you awoke you would find your- 
self a little white boy lying in a white bed, and ” 

‘‘ Yes,” said Jerry. 

“ Well, here’s the point of the whole thing, my 
Jerry boy. You would either get quite well, as 
well as Mabel or — or I myself — or — ^your mother ; 
or — ^you’d die,” 

There came a faint, faint odour of the roses 
across the garden and the little boy closed his eyes 
as he breathed in the perfume. Then he raised 
himself and said cheerfully — 

“ I see ; I know now what mother meant. She 
said yesterday I was to submit, and get you to let 
me submit. To-day, she said other words — but 
they wasn’t her real thought, was they. Colonel ? ” 

“ Oh, don’t ask me,” said the Colonel ; “ I 
suppose you’ve got to believe her.” 

Jerry smiled faintly 

“ I’d be her own boy,” he said in a tone of 
rapture, “ quite well — skipping and jumping and 
going to school and playing football and cricket 
like the boys did near Mrs. Cole’s, and afterwards 
being a King’s soldier and getting a V.C. ” 

“ Remember,” said the Colonel, breaking in 
on this enthusiasm, ‘‘ that there is another pos- 
sibility.” 

“ Oh,” said Jerry, “ but then that would mean 
wings, and going up to Heaven country to father.” 

“ That is what frightens me,” said the Colonel, 
and his voice was very unsteady. 

“ Frightens you — does it ? ” said Jerry 


“ I HAVE HURT HIM 


177 

He crept to the edge of the hammock and boldly 
took the Colonel’s big hand. 

“ It does awfully,” said the Colonel. “ The 
fact is, I could face the tigers, and snakes, and 
I could visit your dying father, after all, all that 
parsed, all that I trust you will never know, but 
I am too cowardly for this — that’s the truth.” 

‘‘ Oh ! ” said Jerry. 

He lay very still thinking hard. The Colonel 
watched him. There was nothing whatever 
weak about his little face, and his lips, very 
sweet in expression, were also firm. They were 
closed now, as though for the time at least he 
had shut away his heart. The Colonel felt 
inclined to plead with the small boy. 

“ You ought to think of me a little,” he said ; 
“ I have thought much of you.” 

It occurred to Colonel Digby at that moment 
that he had sacrificed the whole of his future life 
for Jerry boy. He had married a. woman who in 
no sense could ever be a companion to him. 
That passion of his youth was dead, but the woman 
who had caused it remained. She was his wife, 
but she was not his companion. She was not his 
friend. Between her heart — if she had a heart, 
the Colonel doubted the fact although Jerry 
believed in it — and his heart was a distance wide 
as the poles. Mabel was a good little thing, quite 
gentle and pretty and very amiable, but there was 
nothing remarkable about her. She was an every- 
day girl. In a year or two she would probably 

12 


178 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

marry. The Colonel earnestly hoped she would 
for her own sake — some good, commonplace 
fellow, who would appreciate her and give her a 
happy home. Mabel could not content Colonel 
Digby. There was no 3ne, in short, in all the 
wide world to satisfy his heart but Jerry boy. 

He felt that he was injured by the strange view 
the child took of his position. All ignorance,” 
murmured the Colonel. “ I ought not to yield : 
I won’t yield.” 

“ Look here ! ” he said suddenly, springing to 
his feet. 

Jerry did look up expectantly, 

“ I like manly boys.” 

“ ’Course you do. Colonel,” said Jerry. 

“ Therefore,” said the Colonel, “ all I can say at 
present is that there is no hurry. I should have 
liked to write to Sir Arnold Brewster to-day to 
ask him for full directions with regard to the 
palliative treatment.” 

“ Don’t know what you mean,” said Jerry. 

“ The mild treatment — the treatment that 
doesn’t quite cure you.” 

“ I see,” said Jerry. 

“ But I won’t,” said the Colonel. We’ll put 
the whole thing aside for a month or so. That 
is all I can possibly promise at present.” 

He turned on his heel as he spoke, and marched 
away, leaving the boy quite still and white in his 
hammock. 

“ I have hurt him,” thought Jerry. 


“ I HAVE HURT HIM ” 179 

He clasped his father’s letter and presently 
raised it to his lips and kissed it. The thought 
that he had hurt the Colonel lay like a sore weight 
against his heart. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Sedan Chairs 

HE next day several visitors arrived at 



Courtlands ; some friends of Colonel 
Digby’s, men who had served with him in India, 
and to whom he was attached, also their wives, 
also some of their children. People who knew 
Mrs. Digby when she was Mrs. Ramsey further 
appeared on the scene. The house was full : the 
house was gay. The rose garden echoed with 
laughter. Jerry was not the only person who lay 
in a hammock, for Colonel Digby’s friends were 
fond of stretching themselves in these luxurious 
and comfortable lounges, and more than one 
manly form was seen to smoke blue rings and 
curls of evanescent vapour into the summer air. 

But no one invaded Jerry boy’s particular ham- 
mock : the Colonel took good care of that, and 
the wicker chair which was placed near the 
hammock was also considered ihore or less sacred. 
It was only the Colonel himself who sat there. 
But alas ! the Colonel did not sit there very often. 
He was much occupied. He was resolved to 
give his friends a right good time, and all kinds of 
expeditions were organized and carried out. 


180 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


i8i 


From driving parties, from picnics, from any 
big al fresco entertainment Jerry was necessarily 
excluded. It never occurred to him to mind. 
His little white face always looked glad when he 
saw other people happy. 

He was particularly interested in his mother’s 
face just then, and it seemed to him that she looked 
quite radiant in the many wonderful dresses that 
she wore. It puzzled him very much, the mystery 
of his mother’s dress. It was so changeable : it 
had so many varieties, and it was so exquisitely 
beautiful. He was fond of comparing her at 
times to an angel, at times to a flower. There 
was no other woman in all the world for him just 
then but his mother. The mothers of other 
people — such as fat Mrs. Cole, and kind, stately 
Mrs. Fitzgerald — faded from his memory. He 
could only think of his own mother in her radiance 
and beauty. She hardly ever spoke to him. He 
could only view her from a distance. But that 
didn’t matter. She was naturally waiting to 
find her real boy. Her real boy should not be a 
cripple. Jerry had quite made up his mind. 

‘‘ I will either be her boy in Heaven country 
with father, or I will be her boy quite, quite well 
down here,” he thought. ‘‘ It is hard on Colonel ; 
but even Colonel can’t really want a little cripple 
boy like me to be his friend.” 

During those days which were very gay and 
full of summer, during those days when Court- 
lands looked like a sort of paradise, the Colonel 


i 82 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

on purpose kept away from Jerry. He could not 
stand the Major-Ramsey expression in the boy’s 
eyes. That expression was getting more and 
more marked. It nearly maddened Colonel 
Digby, more particularly as he felt down deep in 
his heart that he himself — yes he himself — ^was 
doing something just then which Major Ramsey — 
gallant, brilliant, reckless officer — ^would never 
have thought of doing. The Major would have 
said, “ Let the boy be made whole or give him 
back to his God.” 

Now the Colonel, feeling that Major Ramsey, 
wherever he now dwelt, did not approve of him, 
could not bear to be reminded of his late rival. 
Jerry boy reminded him of the Major un- 
pleasantly during these days. 

On one occasion, when a week had gone by ; 
on an intensely hot day towards the very end 
of June, Mabel sought the Colonel out. 

“ Can we take Jerry with us to-day ? ” she 
asked. 

“ Why — what do you mean ? ” said Colonel 
Digby. 

“ I think we might,” said Mabel. “ I have 
been planning it out. Couldn’t he come in a 
sort of sedan chair ? He would like it so much ; 
it would be such a change for him.” 

“ Jove ! I never thought of that,” said the 
Colonel. He looked at Mabel with approving 
eyes. ‘‘ ’Pon my word. May,” he said, “ you 
are a capital girl. It’s hateful leaving the 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


183 

little chap behind when we go on our different 
expeditions.” 

I know he’d like it,” said Mabel. 

“It could easily be done,” said the Colonel. 
‘ He shall come with us. Two people can carry 
him : I will be one : Fortescue and Darnley will 
help. The child is as light as a feather. But 
why do you think Jerry wants it so much ? 
Has he complained to you, Mabel ? ” 

Mabel looked almost scornful. 

“ Jerry complain ? ” she said. “ I did think. 
Uncle Cyril, that you knew him.” 

“ I ought not to have asked,” said the Colonel. 

He felt quite contrite. 

“ But he feels depressed, I am sure,” continued 
the girl, for he is looking paler than ever, and 
Dolly says that he sometimes refuses his supper, 
and he likes to go to his room early, but Dolly 
does not think he sleeps.” 

“ Oh, good heavens ! ” said the Colonel. “ I 
have been neglecting the boy. Well, he shall 
have a jolly time to-day.” 

“ We are going to the Fairies’ Mount,” said 
Mabel. “ It is there we are to picnic. Jerry is 
so imaginative that he will fill it with all sorts of 
little gnomes and nymphs and brownies. I’ll 
just run and tell him.” 

“ Do, May,” said the Colonel. “ You’re a 
splendid girl ! ” 

Mabel ran across the grass to Jerry. 


184 the COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

“ Hallo ! ” she said in her cheerful voice, which 
Jerry greatly admired. 

“ Hallo ! ” he answered back. He smiled and 
held out his hand to her. 

I have such news ! ” said Mabel. 

“ What ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ I wish I had time to let you guess, but I 
can’t. You are coming too ! ” 

Coming ? Where ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ Why, we are all going in carriages of different 
sorts, six or seven miles from here to the most 
lovely, fascinating place. I have told you about 
it. It’s that mount you can see yonder.” 

As she spoke she pointed with her finger. 
There was a round hill visible in what seemed to 
Jerry the far horizon. It stood above a great 
belt of trees. 

‘‘ That is the Fairies’ Mount,” said Mabel. 

“ I know,” answered Jerry. I see it some- 
times from my window at night. The moon 
shines all over it. I do wish I had a tele- 
scope : if I had, I might see the ‘ little people ’ 
running about.” 

“ Oh, no, you wouldn’t,” said Mabel. You 
can see them in your mind, Jerry boy, that is all 
you ever really will see of them.” 

“ I don’t believe you,” said Jerry. 

“ Well, anyhow, the next best thing to seeing 
them is to see the mount itself : we are all going 
there for a picnic, and you are coming with us.” 

‘‘ Is mother going on the picnic ? ” asked Jerry. 


SEDAN CHAIRS 185 

Yes ; and Uncle Cyril, of course, and all our 
visitors.” 

“ But,” said Jerry, ‘‘ I thought I was not to— 
I thought I was not to drive much. I used 
to, of course — ^but — I haven’t — had any drives 
lately.” 

“ You are going in a sedan chair ; we are going 
to get an awfully easy chair and put poles through 
it. It is going to be full of cushions and wijl be 
as safe and comfortable as possible, and you 
are to sit in it and be carried on men’s shoulders. 
You can fancy yourself in India and going through 
the jungle — ^you can fancy anything you like.” 

‘‘ Oh, I say ! ” answered Jerry. 

His face lit up with rapture. 

‘‘ May, you are a darling ! ” 

“ You’ve got quite a jolly colour now, Jerry 
boy,” said Mabel, who was in raptures at the 
success of her idea. 

She ran off to find Dolly. Dolly was to make 
Jerry boy look as nice as possible. She was to put 
on his very smartest costume — a white flannel 
suit with little knee breeches and silk stockings. 
Mabel was determined that the boy should look 
beautiful enough even to please his silly, vain 
mother. 

The sedan chair was hastily improvised, and 
presently Colonel Digby, who had quite entered 
into the spirit of the thing, appeared also in white 
flannel, and a white Panama hat, accompanied 
by his friend, Fortescue. The boy was put into 


i86 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

the chair, the chair was hoisted upon the manly 
shoulders, and away they went, march, march 
up the avenue, a little king sitting in the sedan 
chair, a very royal little heart beating inside the 
small manly breast. 

Mrs. Digby expected to have much pleasure 
on this special day. She was the sort of 
woman whom all men worshipped until they 
learned to know her. She was anxious to show 
her husband that his indifference mattered not 
in the very least so long as other men were nice 
to her. She had, however, a sort of irritable 
feeling with regard to the boy. He was, as she 
expressed it, the great bone of contention between 
her and her husband. The Colonel was so 
absolutely silly with regard to the child. The 
fact, too, that he had conquered her in the matter 
of the operation and forced her to unsay her own 
words annoyed her inexpressibly. 

She resolved, therefore, to wean the Colonel 
from Jerry as much as she possibly could. It 
was her place to fill her house with guests. She 
would do so incessantly. The Colonel would 
then have no time to devote to Jerry. In the 
autumn they would go a round of visits to their 
numerous friends, and Jerry would be left 
behind. Colonel Digby was of course like other 
men, he had taken up Fitzgerald as a toy ; 
he would drop him when he found some other 
object of interest. 

The carriage which contained Mrs. Digby, 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


187 

Mrs. Fortescue and a couple of young men was 
one of the last to start on this picnic. Mrs. 
Digby was in high spirits. She knew nothing at 
present about Jerry and the sedan chair. Pre- 
sently, she was seen by one of her friends to raise 
her lorgnettes and look fixedly at some object on 
the road. 

“ Whatever is that ? ’’ she said. 

Mrs. Fortescue laughed. 

Why — don’t you know ? ” she said ; “ a most 
delightful idea came to Mabel, and your dear little 
son is going to share our pleasures to-day.” 

“ What ? ” said Mrs. Digby in a cool tone, 

Fitzgerald ? ” 

“ Yes, your little boy.’^ 

Mrs. Digby turned very red. “ I don’t 
understand,” she said. “ The doctor doesn’t 
allow Fitzgerald to drive ; he says it is bad for 
his spine.” 

“ That is the delightful part of it,” said Mrs. 
Fortescue. “ He is not driving, he is being 
taken in the easiest fashion, in a sedan chair up 
to the Fairies’ Mount.” 

‘‘ A sedan chair ? ” said Mrs. Digby. “ Really, 
you must be joking ! ” 

“ I am not,” said Mrs. Fortescue. “ We’ll 
come up to them in a minute. Doesn’t it seem 
almost as though we were in India ? The Colonel 
and my husband are carrying the little chap.” 

‘‘ Hallo ! ” cried Fortescue at that moment. 

He waved one hand to the occupants of the 


i88 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

carriage. A little beaming face looked out of 
the sedan chair. Colonel Digby, who was walking 
behind, took off his soft Panama, glanced at his 
wife, but did not smile. 

“ Hope you won’t meet many tigers, old chap ! ” 
called one of the young men in a pleasant voice 
to Fortescue. 

The carriage which contained Mrs. Digby 
rolled out of sight. The Colonel said a word to 
Jerry. 

“ Comfortable, kid ? ” 

Jerry looked back at him. The Colonel felt a 
sense of relief. The boy’s face was still wreathed 
in smiles. He had not observed the frown, the 
look of almost hatred in his mother’s eyes. 

By and by, they reached their destination. A bed 
of rugs was made for Jerry, and each individual 
of the party vied to do him some small service. 
He was like a little king surrounded by his court. 
The only person who did not come near him or 
pay him the most remote attention was his 
mother. By turns one man after the other 
talked with Mrs. Digby, basked in her smile and 
admired her beauty. By turns also these same men 
came to Jerry to offer him homage. He was 
not at all conceited or proud of his position, but 
he was intensely happy. The cloud which had 
rested on him since his talk with the Colonel was 
lifted. He felt that he almost worshipped 
Colonel Digby. His busy imagination ran riot. 
He was at last himself in the centre of the home 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


189 

of the fairies. He thought how pleasant it would be 
in future to kneel by his window and look up at the 
distant mount, particularly when the moonbeams 
touched it. He could people the forest beneath 
with snakes, and imagine the dangers which dwelt 
therein : but on the mount itself the good ‘‘ little 
people were safe from all perils and were having 
a lovely time. 

Jerry was having a lovely time now, of course, 
but there was one drop wanting to his cup of 
bliss to fill it to the brim. Had his mother smiled 
at him just from the distance — ^for she who didn’t 
wear her heart on her sleeve couldn’t be expected 
to come any nearer — but had she just smiled at 
him, or waved her hand, then for that day at 
least there would have been nothing more left 
to ask God for. She did not smile. He reflected 
for a few minutes : then he came to what he 
believed was the right solution. 

She could not bear that her only son should be 
a cripple. She could not help feeling very sore 
on that point, and she was so terribly afraid that 
he, Jerry, might notice this that she thought it 
best to keep away from him. 

All right, mother darling,” he whispered ; 
“ Jerry boy won’t be cripple long.” 

He wished he could convey the whisper of his 
heart to her heart : it would cheer her up so 
wonderfully. Suddenly, Colonel Digby came 
up and threw himself on the ground by Jerry’s 
side. 


190 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Why, we’re almost strangers, old chap ! ” he 
said. 

‘‘ Oh, no,” answered Jerry. 

‘‘ Yes, we are,” said the Colonel. ‘‘ I have been 
kept going and going, when I wanted all the 
time to sit with you. You look jolly to-day, 
little man. That was a capital idea of Mabel’s. 
You shall come with us wherever it is possible in 
a sedan chair. It is an old-fashioned way of going 
about, you know, Jerry man. They did it in the 
days of good King Solomon, and they do it still 
in the East. It didn’t hurt your hip, did it, to 
get along in that fashion ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Jerry. “ It was lovely ! But 
it must have tired you awful, Colonel.” 

“ Tired me ? ” said the Colonel. “ You insult 
me when you speak of that. How can you say 
such a thing ? I must be a poor sort of chap if I 
can’t carry a little fellow like you a few miles.” 

“ You did it splendid,” said Jerry, “ and so did 
Captain Fortescue. I like Captain Fortescue 
so much. I wish, Colonel ” 

«What, boy.” 

“ That there were real tigers and snakes in the 
jungle.” 

“ We can fancy there are, if you like,” said the 
Colonel. 

“ Can us ? ” said Jerry, his eyes sparkling. 

‘‘ Of course,” said the Colonel ; ‘‘ we can 

fancy anything. Shall we pretend we are meeting 
a tiger on our way home to-night ? We can 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


191 

think we see his bright eyes as he stalks along, and 
shoot him — ^you could easily learn to shoot if you 
liked/’ 

‘‘ Oh, Colonel ! ” said Jerry. 

“ I will get you a very safe little rifle that you 
can easily manage, and we can come back to 
the jungle another day and shoot our tiger. It’s 
just as good fun to imagine we have done it as 
really to do it.” 

Jerry looked contemplative. Presently he laid 
his hand on the Colonel’s. 

“ It isrCt the real thing,” he said. “ I don’t 
think I — I want to.” 

Colonel Digby’s face, which had looked quite 
boyish and almost enthusiastic over this new idea 
for diverting Jerry’s thoughts from his lameness, 
immediately assumed its moody expression. 
Jerry observed this. 

“ Would you like it ? ” he said. 

“ Awfully,” said the Colonel. 

‘‘ Then ’course,” said Jerry, “ I’d like it.” 

It was a new idea to him that this wonderful 
man, this hero, this V.C. man, could appreciate 
childish games, but if it gave him pleasure, oh ! 
Jerry would enter into it with all his heart and 
soul. 

Several pretty girls came up and asked Jerry 
if he would not like to act the part of the King 
of the Fairies. He said he would, and then they 
decked him with flowers which they had already 
made in long wreaths, and surrounded the bear 


192 THE COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

skin on which he was seated with quantities of 
oak leaves. They enjoyed this function very much 
and Jerry entered into it, more particularly as he 
saw that Colonel Digby was pleased. It was 
puzzling that grown up men, great heroes, should 
care so very much for make-believe. But if they did, 
why, surely a little boy should be glad and proud. 

So it came to pass that Jerry’s day on the 
Fairies’ Mount was all one long, happy, sunshiny 
day. He returned, his white face not nearly so 
white, his brave spirit strengthened a good deal. 
He was hungry for his supper that evening, and 
when he went to bed he slept without rocking. 

The next morning, he awoke early. Dolly 
dressed him, and he limped across the garden to 
his hammock. In this very fine weather with the 
sunshine over everything and the days so long and 
bright and cheerful, Jerry had all his meals out of 
doors. Sir Arnold had prescribed open air treat- 
ment, and the boy himself enjoyed it. Dolly 
brought him his breakfast : it was very nice. He 
was hungry again that morning. 

The guests would stay for a couple more days ; 
then they would leave. There was another expe- 
dition for to-day. They were going to visit 
Tintern Abbey. It was a good way off, but the 
Colonel had told Jerry the night before that the 
bearers of the sedan chair would be at his service. 
He was really feeling intensely happy. This new 
pastime was quite sufficient to excite a small boy. 
It was his duty to make believe as much as possible 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


193 

in order to please the Colonel. What would he 
not do ? Everything in all the world, except the 
great thing, the one thing, to gratify his best 
friend. 

He was eating his breakfast with great con- 
tentment, Dolly having promised to come back 
to help to get him ready for the picnic in half an 
hour, when he saw his mother in her trailing 
white draperies, coming across the grass. Mrs. 
Digby looked well in everything, but perhaps she 
looked best of all in white, that clear white which 
slightly clings to the figure, and which is com- 
posed of softest frills and ruffles and lace. Mrs. 
Digby wore a dress of this sort with a lace hat to 
match. Her dark eyes looked darker than ever 
under the shadow caused by the hat. The 
powder on her face was so well arranged that Jerry 
could not perceive it. The touch of carmine on 
her cheeks looked real to the boy. He wondered 
why she had come into the garden. Would she 
speak to him, or would she pass him by ? He 
didn’t dare to call to her ; but a lump came into his 
throat with the keenness of his desire. Yes ; she 
was coming towards him ! His eyes began to 
shine with their Major-Ramsey look — that look 
which was a reproach to the dead man’s wife, and 
which, in consequence, she hated, but in a very 
different fashion from that in which Colonel 
Digby hated it. 

She sank into the wicker chair near Jerry, and 
said — 


13 


194 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

“ WeU ? ” 

‘‘ I am having my breakfast, mother,’’ said 
Jerry. He paused and looked full at her. “ Has 
you liad your breakfast, mother ? ” 

‘‘ Not yet ; it is early ; I am going into the 
house in a few minutes.” 

“ Would you like — a teeny bit of my breakfast 
with me ? ” said Jerry, speaking in a tentative 
voice, as though he hardly dared to utter the 
words. 

. His mother did not say ‘ no.’ He was surprised 
and intensely delighted. 

“ There’s only one cup,” he said ; ‘‘ but if I 
was to drink at one side, and you at t’other, would 
you mind ? Mrs. Cole used to drink tea with me 
like that sometimes.” 

“ Horrid, vulgar creature ! ” said Mrs. Digby. 

“ She wasn’t — mother ! She was a dear old 
soul.” 

“ That’s a very common expression, Fitz.” 

“ But she was ! ” said Jerry. “ That is the 
only way to ascribe her.” 

‘‘ Well,” said Mrs. Digby impatiently, ‘‘ we 
won’t mind about her now. You are away from 
her now, thank goodness ! ” 

“ Yes, and with you ! ” said the boy, in a voice 
of suppressed rapture. 

Mrs. Digby made no response. 

“ May I pour you out a little tea ? ” said Jerry. 

‘‘ Thank you.” 

Jerry tried hard to keep his little hand from 


SEDAN CHAIRS 


195 

shaking. He always had his own special teapot, 
and he plentifully sugared and creamed a cup of 
tea for his mother. She took it in an abstracted 
fashion, held it in her lap, but did not drink it. 

‘‘ Will you have egg and bacon, or will you have 
porridge and milk ? ” was Jerry’s next inquiry. 

‘‘ No ; nothing to eat, thank you, Fitz. I 
have to go indoors presently to have breakfast 
with the others.” 

He lay back in his hammock without touching 
his own breakfast. He felt very happy. His 
mother was going to drink the tea he had poured 
out for her, and she was sitting near him in the 
wicker chair and she was looking at him with that 
sorrowful expression in her eyes. He was getting 
nearer her heart. 

Oh, mummy ! ” he said suddenly. 

Mother, please,” interrupted the woman. 

“ I am so sorry ; I mean mother. I wanted to 
say that I understanded it quite weU, why you 
didn’t come and talk to me yesterday.” 

This remark surprised Mrs. Digby. It shook 
her out of herself, so to speak, and she laid Jerry’s 
untasted cup of tea on the tray. It gave her the 
opportunity she was seeking. 

“ I have come to talk about that,” she said. 
‘‘ But I am glad you understand. You will see, 
therefore, quite well for yourself that it must not 
happen again.” 

Jerry knit his brows. 

‘‘ What mustn’t happen again ? ” he said. 


196 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Why, now, don’t be silly : what happened 
yesterday. If you choose to be ridiculous, I don’t 
intend to be a figure of fun. I don’t wish you to 
join our expeditions ; you displease me when you 
do so. Yesterday is over — forgotten, forgiven. 
You knew no better. You will understand about 
to-day : you are not to come.” 

She rose to her feet ; she looked down at the 
boy, whose face wore a queer, fixed sort of smile. 
Not for the world would he frown at her. 

‘‘ You are clever enough,” she said, her voice 
softening. “ I give you credit for intelligence — 
plenty of it — so I needn’t explain any more. 
You understand why I didn’t come to you yester- 
day. You understand this. Be a good boy. 
Dolly will read a new story to you. Ta, ta. I 
must hurry in to breakfast.” 


CHAPTER XV 


Make-Believe 

HE tea was cold, but that did not matter. 



A Jerry drank it ; it was the tea he had 
poured out for his mother : he drank it to the 
dregs. He did not touch his food, however, but 
the tea in a sort of manner refreshed him. He 
then sat up bravely in his hammock and looked 
across the garden. 

It was such a lovely day. It was so good of 
God to make the sunshine. It was so very good 
of God to make the roses bloom : only some- 
how, he thought that he was almost getting to 
dislike the smell of roses. They came to him 
when he suffered pain. He was in no pain of 
body to-day, but there was a conflict in his 
mind. 

Dolly came across the garden. She stepped 
joyfully. How nicely she walked ! She was a 
very jolly sort of girl ; he liked her immensely. 
He felt just then that he envied her. If only he 
had legs like Dolly’s, and if only his cheeks were 
rosy. 


198 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

‘‘ Dolly,” he said, “ I s’pose if you chose you 
could run ? ” 

“ Dear me, yes. Master Jerry, I has run races 
at school and always come out first. Even the 
boys couldn’t beat me when I chose, and at the 
rectory feasts. Master Jerry, and the harvest 
home, me and Joe Dunton — he’s the young 
man I’m keeping company with — always won 
the prize. Joe don’t like to think I can run faster 
than him, for all I’m a bit fat.” 

At another time, Jerry would have asked 
eager questions with regard to Joe Dunton, and 
what “ keeping company ” meant. But his mind 
was absorbed in another direction just then. 
Dolly also made a startled exclamation. 

‘‘ Why, Master Jerry, you haven’t eaten nothing ! 
What is the matter f ” 

“ I am not hungry,” said Jerry. 

But that’ll never do ; and the Colonel says 
I am to have you ready pretty sharp, for they 
have to go a good way, and he and Captain Fort- 
escue want to start early with you in the sedan 
chair.” 

‘‘I am not going, please,” said Jerry. ‘‘You 
might perhaps tell the Colonel that — I’d rather 
not go.” 

“Oh!” said DoUy. “What do you mean 
by that ? ” 

“ I can’t explain to you, Dolly. There are 
things I don’t want to talk about. All boys 
who have men’s heart are like that, and you 


MAKE-BELIEVE 


199 

mustn’t question me. I’m not going; that is all. 
Dolly, presently, when they are gone, all of them, 
you might bring me my little wooden box. I 
think I’d sort of like to have it in the hammock 
with me to-day.” 

On Dolly’s rosy face there came a look of strong 
indignation. The fact was that in the servants’ 
hall the position of master and mistress with regard 
to Master Jerry was thoroughly well known. If 
there had been any doubt whatever on the sub- 
ject, Zaidee would have enlightened her fellow 
servants ; and although none of the visitors at 
Courtlands, and least of all the master of the 
establishment, had seen Mrs. Digby trail across 
the grass in her white summer dress towards Jerry’s 
hammock, Dolly had seen her. 

She now, therefore, drew hasty conclusions. 
But she was a wise girl in her generation and made 
no further remark to the boy. She removed the 
breakfast things and presently returned with 
books — picture books, mostly — and some work to 
do for herself. 

But during her absence she had not been al- 
together idle. She had sought for Mabel and 
found her. 

Miss Laurence, do you know that Master 
Jerry isn’t going to-day ? ” 

‘‘ Isn’t going, Dolly ? What do you mean ? 
It is a most glorious day, and it’s all settled. 
Uncle Cyril is waiting for him, and they 
have improved on the sedan chair. It will 


200 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

be more comfortable and will swing less to- 
day.” 

‘‘ He isn’t going, miss ; it is his own wish. He 
says he won’t.” 

“I wonder why,” thought Mabel. She did 
not utter the words aloud, but her eyes looked 
full into Dolly’s. After a moment, Dolly said— 
He seemed all agog about it this morning, 
and so cheerful when I took him out his breakfast.” 

“ What has changed him ? ” asked Mabel. 

‘‘ It isn’t for me to say, miss. He won’t tell 
me. He says he doesn’t wish to go. My mistress 
was in the garden this morning, miss : she was 
sitting with Master Jerry for a bit.” 

“ Oh,” said Mabel. She made no further 
comment. She did not need to. 

It was really terribly hot in the rose garden that 
morning. The sun had come round and was 
shining full on the hammock, and Jerry was so 
tired of those old picture books. He was feeling 
almost cross, for him. There was such a sore 
sensation in his heart, and he was so weak for want 
of food, for that cup of creamed and sugared tea 
was after all but a poor breakfast, that he could 
not bring himself even to remind Dolly to fetch 
the wooden box with his father’s letters. 

All of a sudden, just when he was wondering 
if Dolly could fetch the gardener in order to move 
the hammock a little further into the shelter 
of the trees, he heard a step on the gravel — a 
firm step which crunched the gravel as it walked, 


MAKE-BELIEVE 


201 


and the next minute. Colonel Digby appeared in 
view. He sank into the wicker chair and, taking 
off his Panama hat, said — 

“ Jove, it’s hot ! ” 

‘‘ But why is you here ? ” said Jerry. 

‘‘ I didn’t go, that’s all,” said Colonel Digby. 
By and by, Fortescue and I wiU take you in your 
sedan chair for a ride. There’s a wood near 
here where even lions might hide ; and we’ll 
talk about that little gun I am going to get 
you.” 

“ I don’t understand,” said Jerry. 

We didn’t go, either of us, that is all. Now, 
what can I do for you, my boy ? ” 

Jerry’s lips trembled. He was perilously near 
tears. He was perilously near dreadful tears. 
But at the same time it was extraordinary what 
a sensation of delight came over him. The dull, 
hot day changed, all in a minute, into a day when 
the fairies might walk abroad, when even the 
flowers might talk, when lions might in vain try 
to crouch out of the sight of brave men, when 
tigers might snarl like cats for their prey, and snarl 
in vain. It was the sort of day when men — that 
is, men worthy the name — could do glorious 
deeds. Oh ! how the smarting tears would hurt 
at the back of his eyes ! And why did he feel 
them when he was glad, more than glad ? 

Please,” he said suddenly to the Colonel, 
^‘may I jump out of my hammock?” 

‘‘ Why should you do that ? ” 


202 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

“ It hurts me to jump out suddenly ; I want 
to be hurt a tiny bit, that is all.” 

The Colonel made no comment. Jerry got 
out unassisted. The pain he had wilfully given 
himself kept back the dreadful tears. Things were 
all right : Jerry boy had not disgraced his man- 
hood. 

The Colonel immediately saw the defect in the 
hammock. He put it comfortably in the shade 
in the most quick and masterly fashion. Jerry 
lay back in it refreshed and very thankful. The 
Colonel took up a story book, one of those dull, dull 
books which the boy had tried to read. But lo 
and behold ! it was dull no longer. It was a won- 
derful book when the Colonel read aloud from its 
pages. Jerry listened and the colour came into his 
white cheeks. He exclaimed from time to time 
in his delight. He said, ‘‘ Oh, could it be ! ” He 
clapped his hands with satisfaction when he 
found that it was. He was in the mood to 
believe anything great and glorious, and the 
book which was all about soldiers and battles and 
brave deeds fascinated him. He kept his eyes 
fixed on the soldier hero who lounged in the wicker 
chair. He felt that he adored redness and great 
square shoulders and muscular knobby sort of 
hands. He admired reddish hair too, even when 
the head that wore it was a little bald and the 
hair receded from the temples, and he loved blue 
eyes when they shone out of a big sunburnt face. 

Presently there came a noise, the ‘ frou frou * 


MAKE-BELIEVE 


203 

of a dress across the grass, and Dolly appeared 
with a tray. She laid the tray on a wicker table. 
The tray contained cold chicken and ham, a 
little bottle of wine for the Colonel and a jug 
of milk for Jerry. Peas and potatoes were also 
on the tray. 

The Colonel and Jerry made an excellent meal. 
They joked each other as they ate. The Colonel 
was more of a child in his remarks than Jerry 
himself. 

“ You are quite ‘ incited ’ about that lion, isn’t 
you ? ” said Jerry presently. 

“ The one in the jungle, you mean ? ” said the 
Colonel — “ that jungle through which you and 
I and Fortescue are to pass.” 

‘‘ Yes, yes — that’s it,” said Jerry. ‘‘ You are 
incited awful, isn’t you ? ” said Jerry. 

‘‘ Ra-/Z>^r,” said the Colonel. 

I am so glad ! ” said Jerry. “ So is I.” 

I haven’t got a proper gun for you to-day,” 
said the Colonel, “ but I am going to send to 
London for one. It will arrive in a couple of 
days. We’ll have many a good shoot together, 
won’t we, little chap ? Why, we can live through 
almost everything by just make-beheve. It’s 
a jolly sort of thing, is make believe.” 

“ I s’pose so,” said Jerry. 

‘‘ It is the essence of life,” said the Colonel. 

‘‘ Don’t understand,” said Jerry. 

“ Listen, old man,” said Colonel Digby. “ I 
don’t want you to understand. Take things 


204 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

as you find them, and whatever you do, for the 
Lord’s sake ! keep up your faith in make-believe.” 

‘‘ If you want me to,” said Jerry. 

‘‘ Jerry,” said the Colonel, “ I’d die for it.” 

‘‘ Oh ! ” said Jerry, to whom this was a great 
revelation. “ I see.” He nodded his head very 
gravely. 

The Colonel’s strange attitude towards make- 
believe would give him abundant food for reflec- 
tion later on. 

After lunch Fortescue appeared. He was a 
young man compared to the Colonel, and very 
good-looking. Mrs. Fortescue was exceedingly 
pretty, and Fortescue was devoted to her. It 
was he and she between them who decided that 
he must not go on the picnic when it was dis- 
covered that Jerry was not coming. 

Fortescue’s face looked very content and happy 
now. The sedan chair was forthcoming, and 
the little king with his loyal subjects went into the 
shade of that wood where the lion was supposed 
to be concealed. Oh, what fun they had there ! 
How their hearts beat ! It was Jerry boy who 
played most of the game. It was he who threw 
himself into “Make-believe” with all his heart and 
soul. Hark ! Was not that the lion’s footstep ? 
Had he not just cracked a great bough with his 
big foot. Were not those the eyes of the lion 
shining, shining in the midst of that shadow 
yonder ? 

The Colonel had brought a rifle with him, and 


MAKE-BELIEVE 


205 

when Jerry gave him directions, he fired. Oh, 
it was a palpitating sort of thing to live through ! 
It was not make-believe any longer : it was real ; 
it was man’s sport. It had nothing whatever to 
do with crippled little boys. Jerry shouted at 
the top of his voice. The Colonel said “ Hist ! ” 
and they walked softly. The Colonel raised his 
gun. Again Jerry pointed, and the Colonel 
fired. 

By and by when they were quite exhausted, 
they came home again through the lengthening 
shadows. They found themselves once more 
close to Jerry’s hammock where Jerry himself 
was lying. 

‘‘ Well,” said the Colonel, motioning to For- 
tescue to draw up another chair within reach of 
the sacred enclosure where Jerry’s hammock was 
situated. “ Well, I ask you, Fortescue, and I 
ask you, Jerry boy, if make-believe isn’t the best 
sport in the world ? ” 

“ If you put the question blunt,” said For- 
tescue, “ I don’t think I ever enjoyed myself so 
much in my life.” 

“ That’s right,” said the Colonel. And 
what about you, Jerry boy ? ” 

Jerry’s dark eyes were very wide open. He laid 
his small hand on the Colonel’s. 

“ It stopped being make-believe when we got 
in the wood,” he said. “ It came real — thfet’s 
why it was so wonderful.” 

“ I say ! ” exclaimed the Colonel ; Jove — 


2o6 the COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

yes, you are right, Jerry boy — ^it came real, of 
course that is why we enjoyed it/' 

“ My views are precisely the same,” said 
Fortescue. 

After a pause, the Colonel said — 

“ We must get the skin of that brute, you know, 
Fortescue, and Jerry shall lie on it when the 
weather gets a little cooler. Think, Jerry, of 
lying on the skin of the lion that you practically 
shot, that your ” 

“ No, I didn’t,” said Jerry. ‘‘ You shot it, 
Colonel. You mustn’t take your glories and give 
them to me, you know.” 

“ All right,” said the Colonel ; I don’t want 
to a bit ; I like to keep all the honours I can.” 

‘‘ So you shall. Colonel ; so you shall,” said 
Jerry. “ I am glad you ’joyed yourself so much.” 

Then they had tea, during which they talked 
of the lion they had shot, and of further lions 
they would shoot next day, and next day, and 
the Colonel felt certain that Jerry was forgetting 
all about his lameness, and that he had absolutely 
ceased to remember his cruel mother’s cruel in- 
junction. 

The Colonel did not wish to confide too much 
in Fortescue, that is, with regard to Mrs. Digby, 
but he did not mind commissioning that gallant 
young officer to go to London for him, all unbe- 
known, as it were, the next day and buy a gun for 
Jerry, and do something besides that — purchase a 
lion’s skin. It would be the make-believe skin 


MAKE-BELIEVE 


207 

for all time of that lion which they shot in the 
wood. 

Thus, the last day of the visitors’ stay at Court- 
lands came to an end. The Colonel felt that he 
had won a partial victory over Mrs. Digby. 


CHAPTER XVI 


The Third Time of Asking 

B ut even make-believes don’t quite satisfy 
people. Jerry had his tiny gun, and the 
Colonel showed him how to use it, and there 
was a sort of palanquin, or sedan chair, also 
brought from London in which he could sit 
when the Colonel and Adolphe — for Adolphe 
was promoted to the proud position of one 
of Jerry’s bearers now — went into the woods. 
More than once the sound of a little boy’s gun 
being fired, echoed through the wood and came 
to Mrs. Digby’s dissatisfied ears, as she drove with 
Mabel in her carriage, or walked about the lawns 
in her lovely gardens. 

These things ought to have satisfied even a lame 
boy who had no prospect whatever in life, who, 
always being lame, must grow old before his 
time, who must through all his days only make 
believe about manly deeds, who could never be a 
soldier of the King, nor fight his battles, nor go 
in for what was called big sport, but who must, 
must — oh yes, Jerry knew all about it. The 


THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING 209 

Colonel knew all about it too, and, most of all, 
Mrs. Digby knew. 

Mabel had gone away on a visit to some friends* 
Mrs. Digby very often walked about the garden 
alone now. Some friends she had expected had 
postponed their visit. The Colonel was so 
entertained with make-believes — that is, to out- 
ward appearance — that he could scarcely give any 
time to his wife ; and Jerry watched with his 
penetrating child’s eyes, and felt with his solemn 
child’s heart, that things that ought to be right 
were very wrong. 

He was the one to put them right. It was a 
trying position. There was a little boy of eight 
who was quite willing and longing to endanger his 
life in order to make things quite right, and there 
was a man who, compared to Jerry, was old, who 
would not agree to the little boy’s wish : and 
there was a woman who was very miserable — ^Jerry 
was certain she was miserable. Of course the 
little boy and the man were at daggers drawn on 
this point of all points. Jerry really felt very 
queer, so queer that make-believe did not comfort 
him. 

There came a time towards the end of July 
when, one morning, the Colonel came to Jerry’s 
side. 

Hope you won’t mind it very much, little 
chap ; but your mother and I are going to stay 
with some friends for a few days. We are 
going to Scotland. We shall have to leave here 

14 


210 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

on Thursday morning, and shall not be back 
again with you until Wednesday or so. You will 
have several days without us, but Adolphe and 
one of the gardeners can take you for plenty of 
rides in the sedan chair. I am ever so sorry ; 
I didn’t mean to go this week, but your 
mother ” 

‘‘ Oh, I am ever so glad ! ” said Jerry. Poor 
mother ! she wants a change just awful bad. You 
know, Colonel, nothing makes me so happy as 
having my ownest mother happy. You know 
that, don’t you ? 

The Colonel was silent, with that moody look 
coming into his eyes. Jerry felt that he was 
treading on dangerous ground. He waited for 
a long time, pondering over his words. 

“ She walks all lonesome in the garden.” 

“ Her own fault if she does,” said the Colonel. 

“ Please, Colonel, don’t,” said Jerry. 

The Colonel suddenly jumped up. 

There are some things, Jerry boy,” he said, 
‘‘ that men — and you know I regard you as a boy 
with a man’s heart — can’t talk about.” 

“ I understand,” said Jerry. 

“ Of course you do. Well, your mother’s one 
of the things.” 

“ You and me,” said Jerry “ we has got to 
take care of mother, hasn’t us ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” said Colonel Digby. 

“ But we doesn’t,” said Jerry. 

“ Jove — now what do you mean ? ” 


THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING 211 


‘‘ Mother walks all lonesome in the garden,” 
said Jerry. ‘‘ Us ought not to let it be, ought 
us ?” 

‘‘ You bowl me over,” said the Colonel. Look 
here : I will come back after a minute.” 

He strode across the grass, and Jerry lay musing. 
Presently, his mother came out. 

The Colonel and his mother were to leave early 
the next morning. The news of their departure 
had only just been broken to Jerry. He said 
to himself that he was glad ; it was just as it ought 
to be. His mother would no longer be lonesome 
in the garden : the Colonel would be taking care 
of her. He was so excited and pleased and self 
forgetful for the moment that he lost, for the time 
at least, that dull sort of fear of his mother which 
day by day was creeping more and more into his 
brave little heart. 

He called out, “ Mother ! ” At first she did 
not hear him. He was so full of her and so forget- 
ful of himself that he called again — ‘‘Mother, 
mother ! ” 

Then she turned and slowly approached him. 

“ I am so glad,” said Jerry. 

Mrs. Digby stared at him. 

“ I suppose you are, Fitz,” she said. “ You 
generally seem to be in a state of rapture about 
things ; but as I cannot possibly guess what 
makes you happy, you don’t expect me to 
sympathize.” 

“ It’s ’cause of you,” said Jerry. 


212 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Then pray keep your raptures to yourself if 
they’re on my account,” said the woman. 

“ But I can’t,” said Jerry. “ You’re going 
away with Colonel ’morrow morning. Colonel 
will take care of you. I am so pleased — ^you don’t 
know ! ” 

Mrs. Digby looked full at him. The scorn in 
her eyes, which were dark with suppressed rage, 
startled the child. He raised himself, the Major- 
Ramsey look stronger than ever on his face. 

“ Do you know,” she said, “ that you’re a little 
hypocrite ? I have heard those ridiculous stories 
of you and your make-believe and that folly of 
yours pretending to shoot lions and tigers in the 
woods. You’ll just get shot yourself some day, 
if you are not careful. Let me tell you what I 
think of you — I didn’t mean to, but really, you 
are past bearing. You are the most selfish child 
I ever came across. What right have you to 
absorb all the Colonel’s time ? Because of you, 
he was so rude to his friends that I doubt if they 
will come to stay here again. I meant to fill the 
house with company, but — doubtless because of 
you — they have refused. The Colonel doesn’t 
want to come with me ; but I have managed 
that he shall, just for once. Much enjoyment 
I shall have, however, with him. I married him, 
and naturally wished him to be a good father to 
you, but even that is nipped in the bud by your 
ridiculous way of going on— calling him Colonel ! 
and turning a man like that into a playmate ! If 


THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING 213 

you love me, you will try and do things that I 
wish. What I want are deeds, not words. 
There ! I have spoken my true mind. You are 
being spoilt, Fitzgerald, by over notice — that’s 
what is happening to you.” 

“ Lady Blessington and Miss Blessington,” 
said Adolphe at that moment, “ come to see you, 
madam.” 

Mrs. Digby’s tone altered. 

“ You will think over my words, Fitz,” she 
said. ‘‘ Your conduct and the Colonel’s conduct 
are exceedingly displeasing to me. I’ll say 
nothing more about your being a cripple — that 
might have been helped but — well, we won’t 
revert to that. Coming, Adolphe ! ” 

Adolphe withdrew. 

“ If you wish to please me,” said the woman, 
lowering her tone, “ you will be a good child and 
learn your lessons. I am looking out for a proper 
governess for you — no, not a man ; I want you to 
be under the charge of a woman. She will see to 
you and put some of your nonsense out of your 
head. Now, I shan’t see you again to-night, 
nor perhaps in the morning, as we start early. 
Good-bye, child.” 

She stooped ; yes, she stooped — the wonderful 
lady ! Yes, she stooped, she of the cruel words 
and that heart which could not be found, however 
earnestly Jerry longed to discover it — and touched 
the boy’s brow with a kiss. Then she went into 
the house. 


214 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

The moment she had gone, Jerry passed his 
hand across his forehead. It was as though he 
had wiped away her kiss. 

The next morning early, Colonel and Mrs. 
Digby went away. Mrs. Digby had found no time 
to talk to Jerry, but the Colonel went into his 
bedroom to say good-bye. 

“ Hallo ! ” he said cheerfully. “ I am just 
off, kid, and here you are, blue pyjamas and 
all. Don’t you remember the first time we 
met, old chap ? That was a red letter day for 
me.” 

“ What’s a red letter day ? ” asked Jerry. He 
asked the question wearily. He was scarcely 
interested in the answer. 

“ Oh,” said the Colonel, “ a day of all days ; 
we most of us have those sort of days in life — 
days that we can’t forget. You don’t quite know 
what you are to me, little chap ; and I can’t ex- 
plain — Jove ! I can’t.” 

“ Kneel down, won’t you. Colonel,” said 
Jerry. 

The Colonel knelt by Jerry’s white bed. 

‘‘ Once you let me kiss you,” said Jerry. 
‘‘ ’Tisn’t manly for little boys to kiss men, is 
it ?” 

‘‘ It’s permissible, all the same,” said the Colonel ; 
‘‘ that is, if the little boy wishes it.” 

“ I wish it,” said Jerry. 

He leaned on his elbow, raised his soft lips 
and pressed a kiss on the Colonel’s red cheek. 


THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING 215 

“ I love you, Colonel,” he said. 

Colonel Digby went away immensely fortified 
by those words of Jerry’s. 

“ He is a dear little chap,” he murmured to 
himself. ‘‘ Jove ! I am quite taken up with 
him. ’Pon my word, I can think of nothing 
else.” 

Now, Mrs. Digby had planned this visit. She 
hoped a good deal from it. Some of those 
old friends whom she used to know in India 
were to be present at Castle Invera. 

Castle Invera was the splendid seat of a Scotch 
nobleman of the name of Kirkdale. The Kirkdales 
of Invera were some of those acquaintances whom 
Mrs. Digby was most proud of. The Colonel 
had never met them : they were altogether his 
wife’s friends. Lord Invera, the head of the 
house, was a very proud old Scotch chieftain. 
He was the father and grandfather of a numerous 
family, and a goodly party would be at the castle 
when the Digbys arrived. Mrs. Digby knew 
well that amongst those who were to be present 
were certain friends whom she had faithfully 
promised her husband she would no longer 
know after she became his wife. She was 
careful to conceal this fact from Digby, how- 
ever, trusting to chance to carry her through the 
scene which she guessed would ensue when he 
discovered the ruse played upon him. 

He was a somewhat gloomy companion during 
the journey, but Mrs. Digby was in excellent 


2i6 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

spirits. Zaidee of course accompanied her, so 
did a very costly wardrobe, so did cosmetics not 
a few, so did other subtle accessories for the 
improvement of her appearance. 

The Colonel was very nearly as innocent as 
Jerry with regard to the fact that his wife 
“ made herself up.” She was by no means 
an old woman, being indeed not much over 
thirty ; but she had ruined her health in India 
by late hours, by illness and, last but not least, 
by all sorts of devices for adding to her 
charms. Had she never used cosmetics, she would 
have been a far more beautiful woman than she 
was when, as she expressed it, “ made up.” But 
she did not dare now to relinquish these aids to 
her loveliness, having discovered more than one 
faint indication of the ravages of time on her 
delicate features. 

The Colonel and Jerry, however, were at heart 
one with regard to the travelling dust, as Jerry 
called powder on the face. The Colonel looked 
at her now discontentedly. She saw that he 
was not satisfied, but as she had won a victory, 
she could afford to be gracious. Accordingly, 
she was her most agreeable self during the journey, 
and if the Colonel had not missed Jerry, and if 
he had not a sore sensation in his heart with regard 
to the child who was being left entirely alone and 
to the care of servants, he might have tolerated 
her. But Mrs. Digby had yet to learn the truth 
that there is nothing in all the world more diffi- 


THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING 217 

cult, nay, more impossible than to cause a dead 
love to rise from its grave. The Colonel had 
ceased to care for her. She herself had killed 
what was left of his devotion by her cruel treat- 
ment of her boy, and not all the angels in heaven 
could awaken the passion that had died. He was 
too much a gentleman, however, not to be out- 
wardly civil and courteous, and Mrs. Digby 
pretended that she enjoyed herself very much. 

She was going as a bride to Invera and would 
of course expect special civilities. They had not 
been an hour at the Castle before Digby dis- 
covered that the people whom he considered 
the most ill-bred of his wife’s acquaintances — a 
man of the name of Farquharson, his second- 
rate wife and a brother of hers, Mr. Lowndes — 
were of the party. 

Lowndes was handsome, soft of voice, sleek of 
manner, devoted to women, but also, the kind 
of person whom no man who considered himself 
a gentleman could abide. 

Mrs. Digby pretended to start when she saw him, 
but the Colonel knew quite well that she expected 
to find him at Invera. In their room, when 
the Colonel had finished his own toilet, and 
Zaidee had withdrawn, Colonel Digby spoke his 
mind. 

“ You understand our contract, Cecilia.” 

What contract ? ” she asked. 

‘‘ That you cut Lowndes. In a big house 
like this one can easily use discretion : I expect 


2i8 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

you to remember your promise to me, and to 
use discretion. Don’t dance with the fellow or 
encourage him in any way. He is a hound of the 
worst type ; you know what I think of him. If 
I see you much in his society, I shall make an 
excuse to terminate our visit now.” 

Mrs. Digby made no reply. She was wearing 
a white dress covered with silver ; her eyes looked 
darkand starry ; her complexion Was fair as a lily. 1 1 
was so easy to affect that sort of dream appearance 
by the dangerous help of such cosmetics as Zaidee 
could apply. In the half light of the rose 
coloured shades in her bedroom she looked 
almost girlish. 

“ I expect your promise,” said Colonel Digby. 
“ You will, to all intents and purposes, cut 
Lowndes, his sister, and Farquharson.” 

“ How can I be rude to Lord Invera’s 
guests ? ” 

‘‘ Rude ? ” said Digby. “ You know how to 
manage. Renew your promise. You gave it 
to me on board the Egypt, you broke it in London. 
You renewed it on the eve of our marriage. 
You don’t break it a second time, Cecilia, with 
impunity. Tell me now frankly to my face : 
did you expect to find these people at Invera ? ” 

‘‘ Of course not,” she answered, telling the 
lie glibly. 

He looked at her with his moody glance. 

Cyril,” she said ; “ why are you always 
cross to me ? ” 


so 


THE THIRD TIME OF ASKING 219 

He did not think it worth while to reply to 
this. After a time he said — 

“ You know exactly what I want.” 

“ I don’t,” she said, “ I wish to heaven I did.” 

‘‘ I can easily repeat my wishes. Perhaps 
— although God knows I don’t expect it — they 
may sink into your heart. I want you to ^ct as 
a mother to your boy.” 

‘‘ I ” — she began ; she choked and did not 
proceed. 

‘‘ That is my paramount wish,” said Digby. 
“ The child hungers for your love : it is denied 
him.” 

She turned her back, taking up her fan and 
playing with it restlessly. 

“ That is my greatest wish,” said Digby. 
‘‘ After all, I think I could forgive everything 
else if you would be a mother to that little child. 
But now I come to my second demand of you. You 
are not to know the Farquharsons or Lowndes. 
You are civil to them at your peril. I have told 
you already, Cecilia, that I can make myself 
disagreeable when I choose. Give me your 
promise.” 

He clutched her slender wrists roughly. 

“ Don’t ! You hurt.” 

“ Your promise,” he repeated. 

“ I ? ” she struggled to free herself. 

“ Your promise,” he said a third time, or we 
leave here to-morrow. I can make my excuses 
to Invera.” 


220 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 


“ Very well,” she said in a sulky tone. 

“ The third time of asking, Cecilia : it will 
be a serious matter for you if that promise is 
broken. Now shall we come downstairs.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


“ When the Cat’s Away ” 

T^RIDAY, Saturdajf, Sunday, Monday, Tues- 
day : five whole days. Each day contained 
twenty-four hours. Five times twenty-four — this 
was a puzzling sum for a little boy of eight. But 
Jerry presently mastered it to his own satisfac- 
tion. Five times twenty-four made a hundred 
and twenty : he had one hundred and twenty 
hours therefore in which to act. 

During the night before the Colonel and his 
mother had left, he had been slowly and surely 
making up his mind. He was glad that Mabel was 
away, that there were only servants in the house. 
There was no one specially in authority over him 
except Dolly, and Dolly was the sort of girl who 
could be easily bent to a little boy’s will. 

Now this little boy had a remarkably strong 
will. He could even be obstinate when he had 
fully made up his mind. When the Colonel left 
him he therefore summoned Dolly to his presence. 

“ I want to get up, please,” he said. 

“ It is real early. Master Jerry,” said Dolly. 

“ Not too early for me,” said Jerry. 

221 


222 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Colonel and Mrs. Digby had left at seven o’clock 
on that summer’s morning in order to reach the 
branch line which would presently join the main 
line, and so convey them to Lord Invera’s place 
in Perthshire. Dolly did not want Jerry to tire 
himself. Jerry looked quiet and resolved. 

“ Please, Dolly,” he said in his perfectly polite 
but absolutely firm little voice, “ get me into my 
clothes, won’t you.” 

‘‘ Yes,” said Dolly then. 

She brought warm water : she brought Jerry’s 
cool, fresh clothes. She dressed him with extreme 
care. She had been rather puzzled about him 
during the previous evening. He had been so 
bright of late, so happy in his wonderful make-be- 
lieve world that she could not quite account for the 
change in him. She had told Adolphe — it must 
be confessed that Adolphe much preferred pretty 
Dolly to the faded Zaidee — she had told Adolphe 
gome of her fears. 

Adolphe at this time was causing pangs of 
acute jealousy in the breast of Dolly’s real young 
man — the Joe Dunton with whom she was sup- 
posed to be keeping company. Dolly was not un- 
faithful. She had no idea of giving Joe up : 
but she could not help being just a little kind to 
the handsome Adolphe in whose company she 
was constantly thrown. Adolphe had said to her 
late on the previous night — 

“ When the old cat’s away, the mice may 
have a bit of a game.” 


‘‘WHEN THE CAT’S AWAY” 223 


Dolly had asked to be enlightened, and Adolphe 
proceeded to explain that Zaidee was the cat and 
that he and Dolly were the innocent mice. Dolly 
tossed her pretty head, but nevertheless could 
not help being gratified ; for Adolphe had such 
beautiful soft eyes, and such a very genteel ap- 
pearance. Before she quite knew that she meant 
to do it, she began to confide in him with regard 
to Jerry. 

“ The Colonel has given all sorts of directions,” 
said Dolly,” and Master Ramsey is to be taken 
out as much as ever he likes in his sedan chair ; 
and you and one of the under gardeners are to 
carry him.” 

“ Now I wonder,” said Adolphe, “ if you would 
come too. Miss Dolly.” 

“ I ? ” said Dolly. “ I am not very good at 
walking, and I can’t abide guns — I am awfully 
frightened of ’em : and really and truly, Adolphe, 
sometimes to hear Master Jerry talk, you’d believe 
that there was lions and tigers and snakes in that 
innocent bit of wood yonder.” 

Adolphe did not smile. 

“ I have a naturally nervous horror of fire arms,” 
he said. “ ’ Tain’t the snakes nor the lions that I 
mind, bless your heart. When all’s said and done, 
they’re only rabbits ; but I won’t let Master Jerry 
touch his little gun while the master’s away.” 

“ You needn’t suppose as he’d be allowed to,” 
said Dolly. “Colonel Digby locked up all the 
firearms himself last night. Master Jerry won’t 


224 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

mind that, I know. But I say, Adolphe — Pd 
like ” 

“ Yes,^’ said the tall footman. 

‘‘ Pd like to give madam a good souse in the 
pond — there ! ” 

Dolly’s whole face was rosy up to the roots of 
her hair. 

“ I hate her ! ” said Dolly ; and I hate Zaidee. 
Madam has been at little master again. I know 
his look by this time when she worrits him. Pd 
like to duck her for a witch, that I would ! ” 

“ Them’s my sentiments,” said Adolphe, and 
Dolly left the footman, feeling that he was a 
very appreciative person indeed. 

When Jerry was dressed, he went as usual into 
the garden. It was only about half past seven. 
When there, he called Dolly to him. 

“ I need not have breakfast for half an hour,” 
he said. 

‘‘ But wouldn’t you like it at once. Master 
Jerry ? You must be hungry, getting up so 
early.” 

‘‘ No : I am not special,” said Jerry. ‘‘ Why, 
there’s the dew still on the grass,” he added smil- 
ing with pleasure as he saw the sparkling diamonds 
of dew covering everything. ‘ Isn’t it wonderful 
and ’licious out in the fresh, fresh air, Dolly ? ” 

“ It’s the same as every day,” said Dolly, who 
was a country girl and had ceased to keenly ap- 
preciate what she had always possessed. 

“ It’s early enough,” said Jerry ; “ and that’s 


‘‘WHEN THE CATS AWAY” 225 


the main thing. Dolly, I want you to send 
Adolphe to me, please.” 

“ Oh, my word ! ” said Dolly. 

“ Yes, please,” repeated Jerry, “ and at 
once.” 

Dolly ran into the house. 

“ Adolphe ! ” she cried to the footman : “ you 
are to go into the garden to little master, and 
you’re to be quick.” 

Adolphe was nothing loth. He crossed the 
grass and stood before Jerry. He carried a piece 
of chamois leather in his hand and a silver spoon 
which he was rubbing. When he stood before 
Jerry, he began to rub the spoon very hard. 

“ Yes, sir,” he said. 

Jerry did not ask him to sit down as he had done 
on that first occasion in the drawing-room of the 
London hotel. Somehow, he knew better now, 
and the Colonel’s wicker chair was sacred. But 
raising his eyes, he said enquiringly — 

“ You’ll do just exactly what I want while 
Colonel Digby and mother’s away ? ” 

“ Of course. Master Ramsey.” 

“ Thank you so very much, Adolphe. I like 
you so much. I have always liked you, haven’t 
I ?” 

“ Since you set eyes on me, you’ve seemed a 
bit taken with me, sir,” replied Adolphe, in a mo- 
dest tone. 

“ It’s not only,” said Jerry, “ ’cause you are 
handsome, bat ’cause you are good and — and — 

.15 


226 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

kind. You carry me beautifully on your shoulder, 
when I am in my sedan chair.” 

“ If I didn’t, Master Jerry, the Colonel ’ud 
be down on me like a thousand o’ bricks.” 

“ Those aren’t pretty words,” said Jerry — ‘‘ not 
’bout Colonel. I forgive you, Adolphe ; but 
you mustn’t say them again.” 

“ All right, sir,” said Adolphe. He waited 
expectantly 

‘‘ I wonder,” said Jerry — “ the fact is, I can’t 
write very well ; I can sort o’ write but not v/rite 
very well. Can you write, Adolphe ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Adolphe ; “ that is, in a sort o’ 
fashion. But I am not what would be called a 
truly eddicated man, sir.” 

“ Oh, never mind ’bout that,” said Jerry. 
“ You’re a man — that’s a good thing ; and you’re 
very handsome, and you walk so lovely. You 
are not lame, Adolphe ; you could run if you 
chose.” 

“ I don’t care about that sort of exercise. Mas- 
ter Ramsey.” 

“ You could jump if you fancied,” said Jerry. 

“ I could, sir ; but I don’t want to.” 

“ You could do anything with your legs,” said 
Jerry. “ You are a man : you ought to be thank- 
ful. Does you, Adolphe, go down on your 
hnees and thank God every day for your straight 
legs ? ” 

“ I can’t say I do, sir : never thought about it.” 

“You ought,” said Jerry. He spoke with 


“WHEN THE CAT’S AWAY” 


2^7 


intense feeling. “ You really, really ought,” 
he said again. 

Then he roused himself with a quick sigh. 

“ I want us to — to have a secret,” he said sud- 
denly. “ Just ’cause you are a man, and I am 
another ; but your legs is all right, and mine 
isn’t. Could us have a secret that you’d never 
tell to anybody — even to Dolly — Adolphe ? ” 

“ We — could,” said Adolphe, reflectively. “ But 
I ain’t good at keeping secrets ; they seem to 
fizzle and burst inside me, and I lets ’em out very 
often.” 

“ It’s a pity,” said Jerry, “ ’cause you can do 
nothing to help me if you doesn’t keep this a 
secret.” 

“ Very well,” said Adolphe, after a pause. 
“ I’ll— I’ll try.” 

“ Thank you so very much. You’U keep it 
solemn, and all to your lone self ; even if it fizzles 
like anything — ^like — ^likc — champagne ? ”, , 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Give us your hand, Adolphe.” 

Adolphe gave his hand which Jerry held in his 
for a minute. 

“ No one is to know,” he said ; “ not even 
Dolly.” 

“ Of course not, sir.” 

“ Very well ; we’ll begin at once,” said Jerry. “ I 
want you to bring out here a table, and pen, and 
ink and paper, and a stamp ; and I want you to be 
very quick ; and that isn’t all ; I want you to get 


228 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


a book that has — names — of houses where people 
live, and the names of the people what live in 
’em. There is such a book — and I think it is 
called a ‘ ’rectory ’ ; I’m not sure, but / think it is 
a ‘ ’rectory ’ . And please come as quick as ever 
you can ; and remember, even though it’s like 
champagne, you are not to tell.” 

Adolphe really felt interested. He went back 
to the house almost on tip toe, and when he saw 
Dolly, he screwed his lips and patted his mouth, 
and after a time said — 

“ Don’t you come round me with your wheedling 
ways ; for I’m not to tell.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Jerry Boy’s Letter 

HEN at eight o’clock that same morning, 



Dolly appeared with a tray which con- 


tained Jerry’s exceedingly nice and appetizing 
breakfast, she saw a sight which puzzled her not 
a little. She saw Adolphe seated in a sprawling 
attitude by a small round table. At one side of 
the table was a pile of letter paper, some envelopes, 
a blotting pad, an inkstand, and several pens. 
But in the place of honour reposed the bulky 
form of a London Directory. Adolphe was 
murmuring to himself, several times, “ I’m 
blowed,” and Jerry’s cheeks were flushed. Jerry 
looked almost annoyed when he saw Dolly. 

“ Oh dear ! ” he said, “ what a fuss ! I don’t 
want breakfast really.” Dolly felt that the 
moment had come for her to assume her rightful 
authority. 

‘‘ Master Jerry,” she said ; “ I am in charge of 
you while your pa and ma are away, and eat you 
must. Adolphe, have the goodness to move 
them things, and let me put Master Jerry’s tray 
on the table. Now, sir, whatever secrets you 


229 


230 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

and Adolphe have in common, eat you shall, if I 
have to stand over you to see it done.” 

Dolly did not object to keep close to Jerry 
while the handsome footman was also near. 
Jerry, who was seldom ill-tempered long, smiled. 

“ Put the ’rectory very carefully on the ground, 
Adolphe,” he said. “ Put a mark in the place. 
How far has you got in the ‘ Streets ?’ Adolphe ? ” 

‘‘ There’s such a lot of ’em : I’m not quarter 
done ‘ A ’ yet,” said Adolphe. “ This is a sort of 
business as would turn a fellow’s hair grey.” 

Jerry looked dignified. 

“ Put the ’rectory on the grass,” he said. “ The 
grass is quite dry now and it won’t hurt it. Put 
the paper and pens aside of the ’rectory. And 
now, Dolly, you can lay my breakfast on the 
table, and you need not stay and watch me while 
I am eating, ’cause of course you’ll want your own 
breakfast, and Adolphe will want his. Mind 
your promise, Adolphe. Nobody’s to know. 
Dolly, you are not to be a bit curious ; I’d feel 
quite ’shamed of you if you was. You and 
Adolphe can go away and eat your breakfast, and 
I’ll eat mine ; and then Adolphe will come back 
and we’ll go on looking through ’rectory.” 

A minute later, Dolly and Adolphe might 
have been seen slowly crossing the lawn. There 
was no need to hurry : the mistress of the house 
was away. Adolphe heaved a heavy sigh and 
looked very appreciatingly at Dolly’s sweet, dewy 
face. She really was a dear little thing. Compared 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 231 

to Zaidee, she was all that was desirable. But 
then Zaidee, aged forty-five, had savings, and 
Dolly, aged eighteen, had not a penny. Adolphe 
knew that prudence, in his case, would be the 
better part of valour. So he refrained from open 
love-making and said instead in an injured sort 
of voice — 

A nice day I have before me with little 
master.” 

‘‘ Why, whatever have you to do ? ” asked 
Dolly. 

“ Bless you, Dolly,” replied Adolphe, ‘‘ I can’t 
tell you that, because when I gives my word, 
I keeps it. But there’s no harm in letting you 
know that every house in every street in London 
has to be called out aloud by me to little master 
with the name of the person that lives in it.” 

‘‘ Oh, my word ! ” said Dolly. 

You may well say that,” replied the footman. 

I’ll want a good breakfast to support me 
through a bit o’ business o’ that sort.” 

Then you’ll be with little master all the 
morning ? ” said Dolly. 

“ All the morning ? ” said Adolphe. “ Guess 
I will, and all the afternoon too ; and all the 
evening for that matter, if my head don’t burst.” 

‘‘ I tell you what,” said Dolly, her eyes brighten- 
ing. ‘‘ I’ll clean your silver for you, Adolphe.” 

“ You’re a remarkably pretty girl, Dolly,” said 
Adolphe with extreme gravity and appreciation. 

When Adolphe returned to Jerry in about 


232 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

an hour’s time, during which period it might be 
supposed that he had well fortified himself for 
the task which lay before him, the little hero of 
the hour was lying very still and placid in his 
hammock. 

I am thinking,” said Jerry softly, after 
Adolphe had removed the breakfast tray into the 
house and had come back again, “ that after all 
we needn’t bother ’bout ’rectory and London 
streets ; ’cause the great thing is for letter to go. 
I want it wrote and I want you to write it.” 

But if you don’t know where to send it. 
Master Fitz.” 

“ I am thinking,” said Jerry, that ‘ London ’ 
would do. ‘ The Great Physician, London ’ ; 
that would find, wouldn’t it, Adolphe ? ” 

Can’t say, I’m sure,” said Adolphe, scratching 
his head. It don’t seem, somehow, as though 
it would ; but perhaps you are right, little 
master.” 

“ I have been thinking it all out,” said Jerry ; 
“ and I am certain sure it will ; ’cause, you see, 
the Great Physician means the one next best to 
Jesus Christ. Colonel Digby says he is that. 
I’ll put it and try : I think I’m pretty safe.” 

‘‘ All right, sir,” said Adolphe, who, finding it 
impossible to follow the trend of Jerry’s thoughts, 
was only anxious to please the child. 

‘‘Well then; let’s begin,” said Jerry. We 
must catch early post : he must get it to-night. 
It’s most ’portant not to waste any time.” 


233 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 

‘‘ I am your man, sir,” said Adolphe. 

He seated himself again at the round table, 
sprawling his legs awkwardly and stretching half 
his body across it. 

“ Get your sheet of paper ready,” said Jerry. 

Adolphe did so. 

Has you a pen to your liking, Adolphe ? 
Colonel’s very ’ticular ’bout his pen. What sort 
do you like ? Colonel likes ‘ J ’, but perhaps 
you’d rather have a ladies’ medium.” 

Don’t mind sir, I’m sure,” said the obliging 
Adolphe. 

“ Oh, that is so nice of you ! ” said Jerry. 
‘‘ You must be a splendid writer, Adolphe.” 

Adolphe was silent. He took up the first pen 
that lay handy, and, dipping it in the ink, held 
it over the paper. The pen was very full of ink, 
and a great blob descended on the white sheet of 
paper. 

“ This won’t do,” said Adolphe, “ whoever 
the pusson may be as you want to indite a letter 
to, sir, he or she won’t like a blot.” 

Yes, yes, he will like it,” said Jerry. ‘‘A 
blot means a kiss ; Mrs. Cole told me. The 
letter is to the great Physician.” 

My word,” said Adolphe. “ I don’t know 
how to spell his name.” 

‘‘ You needn’t,” said Jerry. “ I have a 
dictionary by me for the most difficult words. 
Now then, remember, it’s our tremendous secret.” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, sir.” 


234 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

‘‘ Put the date please, Adolphe.” 

Adolphe made a sort of smudge which might, by 
dint of extreme care, be construed into July 20, 
at the head of the paper. Jerry bent over him 
anxiously. 

‘‘ It don’t seem very clear,” he said. ‘‘ 1 
couldn’t read it.” 

Well, sir : shall I try again on another 
sheet ? ” 

“ No, no : only do be careful ’bout rest of what 
I am going to say.” 

‘‘ I’ll do my level best, sir.” 

Adolphe now bent his head within a few inches 
of the paper. 

“ Fire away, sir,” he said ; “ fire away.” 

‘ Great Physician,’ ” began Jerry. 

“ How do you spell it, sir ? ” asked Adolphe. 

‘‘ G-r-e-a-t — great,” said Jerry. ‘‘ Physician — 
F-i-s-i-s-i-o-n.” 

‘‘ That’s done, sir ! ” said Adolphe. 

“ ‘ Will you please come at once to see Jerry 
boy ’ ” 

‘‘ Hold hard, sir,” said Adolphe ; ‘‘ I am slow 
at the pen.” 

He got the words down, J erry bending across 
his hammock to watch. 

‘‘ You should have put a capital ‘ J ’ ” he 
remarked, “ when you wrote ‘ Jerry boy.’ ” 

“ It don’t matter, I s’pose, sir.” 

“ No, it don’t really matter,” said Jerry. 
“ Now go on.” 



“‘Great Physician,’” 


Began Jerry. 




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JERRY BOY’S LETTER 235 

“ ‘ I have something most ’portant to say to 
you ’ ’’ 

Adolphe got these words also on the sheet of 
paper, which by this time presented a most untidy 
and indeed disreputable appearance. 

‘ It means all my life ’ ” 

“ No sense in that, sir,” said Adolphe. 

“ Write it, Adolphe,” said Jerry, with great 
dignity. 

Adolphe did so. 

‘‘ ‘ Colonel’s away,’ ” proceeded Jerry. 

“ Spell ‘ Colonel ’ please, sir,” said Adolphe. 

“ K-e-r-n-e- 1 ,” said Jerry. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

‘‘ ‘ I has only five days ’ ” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Adolphe, when he had put 
these words on the paper. 

“ ‘ So please hurry up ’ ” • 

“ Any more, sir ? ” asked Adolphe. 

“ I don’t think so,” said Jerry : “ He’ll under- 
stand. I’d best sign it my own self.” 

“ Wish you would, sir, I’m sure,” said Adolphe, 
wiping the moisture from his brow. 

Jerry with great toil inscribed the words, 
‘‘ Jerry boy ” at the end of the letter. Then a 
thought came to him, and in his exceedingly 
round and unformed hand, he added a postscript : 

Being a’most the same as Jesus Christ, you 
will come quick, ’cause He always did.” 

The letter was finished, and Jerry and Adolphe 
read it over together. All things considered, 


236 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

they both believed it to be a very beautiful and 
moving letter. 

‘‘ It’ll do the business, sir,” said Adolphe. 

“ Yes, won’t it ? ” said Jerry. “ Now then, 
we must put the address on it, and get it into the 
post.” 

“ Yes, sir : here’s the envelope.” 

The letter was folded and put into an envelope, 
Jerry himself fastened it down. Then Adophe 
wrote, with great care, the words — 

‘‘ To the Great Fisision, London.” 

A stamp was put on by Jerry, and Adolphe 
went to the post with the letter. 

He felt queer as he walked to the village, 
inclined to laugh and at the same time inclined 
to cry. Master Jerry was a rum little chap. 
How could he suppose that that sort of letter 
would find ? But perhaps it would. Adolphe 
had never concerned himself much about postal 
arrangements, his own correspondence being 
practically nil. 

Having posted the letter, he joined Dolly in 
the pantry. 

“ You may go out to him now, Dolly,” he said. 
“ The secret’s done. My word — but it was a 
job ! ” 

“ Your hands are all over ink,” said Dolly. 

‘‘ And no wonder,” said Adolphe. ‘‘ I’ve been 
writing. The little chap’s mighty cute, and he 
spells beautiful ! ” 

Do he ? ” said Dolly. 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 237 

‘‘ He’s a very clever little fellow— lie be indeed,” 
said Adolphe. 

“ I wonder what you’ve been writing about,” 
said Dolly. 

** That’s my secret,” said Adolphe, pursing 
his lips. “ I’ll blow you a kiss if you like, Dolly ; 
but I’ll never let out that secret, not if it’s cham- 
pagne — in^de me.” 

“ I am sure I don’t want to hear,” said Dolly ; 
“ and as to your kisses, you had best keep ’em to 
yourself, or you’ll have Joe to answer to. He is 
my young man, and he won’t stand no nonsense 
from any one else.” 

In answer to this, Adolphe made a playful 
effort to catch Dolly as she was leaving the 
pantry. She evaded him, and went out to 
Jerry, who, having got his letter off, was lying, 
peaceful as a little boy could be, in his hammock. 
All was right now. The great physician would 
come to-morrow. What was right to be done 
would be done. Colonel might be angry, but 
he would forgive. His own father would approve, 
and he would find the heart of his mother. 

In consequence, Jerry was his most charming 
little self, and no one could be more agreeable on 
such occasions than this small boy of eight. He 
was absolutely silent with regard to his secret, 
but he had a great deal he wanted to say to Dolly. 

‘‘ Has you ever, Dolly,” he asked in the course 
of the morning, “ seen a person put on his wings 
and go away ? ” 


238 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

My word ! No,” said Dolly. “ I don’t 
want to.” 

She looked startled and uneasy. Jerry at 
times almost terrified her. She wished Miss 
Mabel was at home. The steadfast, grey eyes 
of the child were fixed on her face. 

“ Why shouldn’t you wish to ? ” he asked, 
when you knew the person who put on the 
wings was so happy ? ” 

“ That sounds like dying,” said Dolly. ‘‘ I 
hate the thought of death and the grave.” 

“ Haven’t you ever seen a person — die ? ” 
said Jerry. 

“ Yes,” answered Dolly, with great reluctance. 
“ But it’s a gloomy subject. We’ll talk of some- 
thing else, Master Fitz.” 

“ But I don’t think it at all gloomy,” said Jerry. 
“ It only means going to Heaven country. I 
have a father there, you know. I can’t talk about 
him even to you, Dolly ; but he is there. It is 
most natural, isn’t it, Dolly, that I should like to 
think about the way to get to Heaven country ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Dolly. ‘‘ When my little 
brother died, they put him in a box and screwed 
it up and put the box down deep in the ground. 
There was nothing about wings at all : if there 
was, I didn’t see ’em.” 

Jerry turned a little pale. He felt not in the 
least shaken with regard to dying and the fact of 
getting wings and the greater fact of going to the 
Heaven country. But Dolly did not understand. 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 239 

Very few people did. It was puzzling.. To 
Dolly’s great relief therefore, he changed the 
subject. 

They spent quite a happy day. The little boy 
was so pleasant, and both Dolly and Adolphe 
were so fond of him. With the aid of the under 
gardener Adolphe took him for a long ride in the 
sedan chair, and Dolly accompanied them with the 
proviso that they would not go near the wood 
where the lions and tigers were supposed by Jerry 
to crouch. He was highly delighted to think that 
Dolly believed in the lions and tigers, and laughed 
with glee when she refused even to turn her eyes 
in the direction of the wood. 

“ Don’t you see that dark part ? ” said Jerry, 
“ just where the shadow is deepest ? He is 
waiting in there. If I had my gun, I could shoot 
him.” 

“ Oh, don’t. Master Jerry,” answered Dolly. 
‘‘ It gives me dreams o’ nights even to hear you 
talk of such things.” 

“ Most women is frightened,” said Jerry. He 
gave a gentle pitying sigh. Dolly could not help 
herself, poor thing ! It was his place being a man 
not to add to her terrors : so again he changed 
the subject. 

On his return home after that long ride, a 
great surprise and delight awaited him, for 
Colonel Digby, without saying a word to his wife 
had telegraphed to Mabel to come home : and 
there was Mabel — pretty, dear, understanding 


2^0 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Mabel — waiting on the steps to greet him ! She 
flew to him with wide open arms and they embraced 
each other. She herself lifted him tenderly out 
of the sedan chair, and they went away together 
across the garden where the evening shadows were 
growing so long and they had their dinner out 
under the trees while Mabel talked and Jerry 
listened. 

He was so delighted to have her with him ! He 
loved her so dearly ! She was one of the under- 
standing sort. She was a much better com- 
panion for a little boy than was Dolly or Adolphe. 
Jerry had no intention, however, of confiding to 
her his secret of secrets. Not yet, at any rate. 
After Great Physician had come and everything 
was arranged, then perhaps he would let her 
know. He had planned it all in his little mind. 
Great Physcian would get his letter that evening. 
He would come down to Courtlands by an early 
train to-morrow morning and would arrive very 
much about the time he had arrived on his 
previous visit. Then he would do whatever had 
to be done at once, and Jerry would be well — all 
danger over — by the time the Colonel and Mrs. 
Digby came back on Wednesday. There was, 
of course, another alternative. He might be, 
it was just possible, like Dolly’s little brother. 
They might put the visible part of Jerry boy into 
a box and bury that box deep in the ground, but 
in that case the soul of Jerry boy would be in 
Heaven country with his father. There would 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 241 

be no cripple to distress his mother ; and the 
Colonel, Jerry felt very sorry for the Colonel. 
Still, there was no help for it. His first duty — 
his duty of all duties, was to his father and mother. 
He never wavered with regard to this thought. 
He was quite positive that he was doing right. 
But for the sake of the Colonel he prayed very 
hard to God that Great Physician should succeed 
and make him a strong boy who would be a man 
some day and fight the King’s battles. 

He went to bed very happy, without a trace of 
fear, and slept all night without dreams. In the 
morning he awoke early. He lay smiling to him- 
self. The day of days had come ! It was only 
Friday. Great Physician would arrive about nine 
o’clock. That was the hour he had come to 
visit him before. Jerry resolved that he would 
see him alone. He could explain better what he 
really wanted if he and the big man with the 
kind, cool, strong hands were all by themselves. 
Then it would be done — oh, so quickly — and 
there would be nothing more but to get well. 

There were two ways of getting well, of course ; 
but either would absolutely content Jerry boy. 

“ Darling father ! ” he thought. ‘‘ I like 
them to put father’s letters in the box with me 
when they screw it up — that is, if I am to have 
wings and go to Heaven country. But I needn’t 
say anything to Mabel yet. Mabel would do it, 
because she’s so sweet ! ” 

Dolly bustled into the room. 

16 


242 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Why, Master Jerry, you are a lazy boy this 
morning ! It’s a quarter to eight ! Here, now, 
we must look sharp ; you’ll have barely time 
to get your bath and be in the garden by a few 
minutes past eight. Miss Laurence wants to 
breakfast with you, sir. You are to have a 
regular feast this morning in the garden ; and it’s 
such a magnificent day.” 

I am not getting up, thank you,” said Jerry. 
“ I am going to stay in bed this morning.” 

My word ! ” said Dolly. “ Ain’t you well, 
sir } ” 

“ I am quite well,” answered Jerry. 

But. Master Fitz, why won’t you get up ? 
\%at can be wrong ? ” 

“ There’s nothing wrong at all. If you must 
know, Dolly, it’s my secret. Will you please 
have the kindness, Dolly, to send Adolphe here I ” 

Dolly ran downstairs in double quick time. 

‘‘ You are wanted, Adolphe,” she said. “ It’s 
that ‘ champagne ' business of yours. Go up to 
Master Jerry. He won’t get out of his bed. 
Can’t think what’s up. He says he is quite 
well.” 

Adolphe bounded upstairs three steps at a 
time. He entered Jerry’s room. 

Yes, sir,” he said. 

Secret all safe, Adolphe ? ” said Jerry. 

‘‘ Mum’s the word, sir,” said Adolphe. 

‘‘Thought you’d be faithful, Adolphe.” 

The strange grey eyes looked more pathetic 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 243 

and beautiful than usual. Adolphe suddenly 
felt queer. 

“ Ain’t you well, little master ? ” he in- 
quired. 

“ Quite, quite well ; and I am going to get 
better still, and you have helped me. There are 
some who to their dying day will thank you, 
Adolphe, for the noble deed you did yesterday 
morning.” 

“ Fm a bit puzzled, sir, to know to what you 
allude. I ain’t never done nothing noble in all 
my life.” 

“ You wrote the letter to Great Physician.” 

“ Oh, that ! ” said Adolphe. ‘‘ Yes, sir, of 
course, sir. Well, sir ; that’s all right.” 

‘‘ It is,” said Jerry. Now I want the carriage 
to go to the station for him, and I want you to go 
on the box, and I want you to bring him straight 
up to me to my room, and not to tell nobody. 
His train will be in at half-past eight, and he will 
be here at nine o’clock. You must go at once, 
Adolphe.” 

‘‘ Very well, sir.” 

Adolphe stood for a minute hesitating. What 
dream had the child in his mind ? Did he really 
expect any one to reply to that nonsense letter 
which was posted yesterday ? But Jerry’s eyes, 
full of faith and determination, drove him 
speechless from the room. 

‘‘ Won’t you get up, sir,” said Dolly, when she 
returned. 


244 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

‘‘ No ; I will have my breakfast here — I am — 
Dolly, I am expecting a friend.’^ 

Oh, my word ! ’’ said Dolly. 

A gentleman, Dolly ; he will see me in my 
bedroom — in my blue silk pyjamas.’’ 

“ Very well, sir.” 

‘‘ I don’t want it mentioned,” said Jerry. 

Not to Miss Mabel, sir ? ” 

‘‘ Not just at present. Give Mabel my love 
and say that Jerry boy will see her after a bit — 
not quite yet. Be sure you give her my love, 
Dolly.” 

‘‘ Is Miss Mabel to eat her breakfast all alone 
in the garden, sir ? ” 

I am sorry,” said Jerry ; ‘‘ but I am afraid 
she must.” 

Dolly hastened away. Mabel met her in the 
hall. Mabel was in white with a white muslin 
hat over her chestnut curls. 

“ Where is Master Jerry ? ” she asked of Dolly. 

‘‘ He is in bed, miss ; he won’t get up.” 

‘‘ Won’t get up ? Let me go to him.” 

“ No, miss ; he doesn’t wish it.” 

“ Doesn’t wish to see me ? ” 

‘‘ No, miss ; he said most particular that you 
wasn’t to come to him yet. It’s one of his cranks, 
miss — he is full of ’em, poor little gentleman.” 

“ But is he ill ? ” said Mabel. 

“ He don’t look so, miss. He has ordered his 
breakfast ; I will let you know if he eats it, miss.” 

Mabel paused for a minute considering. 


JERRY BOY’S LETTER 245 

I suppose I had better do what he really 
wishes,” she thought, ‘‘ He is not like others — 
dear, dear little Jerry ! ” 

She went into the garden and ate her own 
breakfast, thinking of the boy all the time. She 
was coming towards the house when she heard 
the sound of wheels. She went round at once to 
the front entrance, expecting to find a carriage. 
But there was nothing of the sort. The sound 
died away in the direction of the stables. 

Presently, Adolphe was seen hastening towards 
the house. Dolly also appeared at that moment. 
Dolly came up to Mabel. 

“ Master Jerry has eat a capital breakfast, miss ; 
his porridge and an egg, and he has drunk a 
whole cup of milk.” 

Adolphe came up also and said in a low voice to 
Dolly*- 

“ May I see Master Jerry ? ” 

“ Yes, run upstairs, do,” said Dolly. 

‘‘ Oh,” interrupted Mabel, “ will you kindly 
let me know who has been using the carriage this 
morning ? ” 

‘‘ I took it to the station, miss, or rather the 
coachman did, and I went with him.” 

But why ? ” asked Mabel. 

Master Jerry’s orders, miss.” 

Mabel looked as though she longed to question 
further, but she refrained. She went out into 
the grounds. She heartily wished that Dolly 
and Adolphe were out of sight, out of the house, 


246 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

and that she might have the whole care of Jerry 
boy herself. 

Meanwhile, Adolphe had entered the little boy’s 
bedroom. 

“ He ain’t come, sir.” 

Jerry had a glow of colour on each of his cheeks, 
but at these words it faded. 

‘‘ Did you look everywhere ? ” he asked, after 
a pause. 

‘‘ Yes, sir ; there was no one at all come by the 
train.” 

‘‘ Very well,” said Jerry. 

Adolphe waited as though Jerry would say 
something further to him. Jerry was silent. 

‘‘ Sorry for you, sir,” said the man, noticing 
the weary expression which had suddenly spread 
over the little face. 

‘‘ Don’t matter,” said Jerry. ‘‘ ‘ Spec ’ there 
were other cripple boys.” 

Perhaps it was the address, sir ? ” 

‘‘ No,” said Jerry. ‘‘ That is all right. You 
can go, Adolphe.” 

Adolphe went. 


CHAPTER XIX 

Great Physician 

M abel rather wondered at Jerry boy 
that day. He was very polite and 
gentle, but intensely reserved. He kept on 
repeating under his breath — 

‘‘ Stupid of me to forget : there must have 
been other cripple boys. Great Physician couldn’t 
cure all of ’em same day and time.” 

He was also making anxious mental calcula- 
tions. The great, great doctor, the wonderful 
man with the Jesus Christ power in him, would 
certainly arrive to-morrow. To-morrow would 
be Saturday. It was a pity certainly, that what 
was to be done could not be done on Friday ; but 
even Saturday would be time enough. There 
would be four days in order to get quite well be- 
fore Colonel and Mrs. Digby came back. Four 
days were not as good as five, but they were better 
than nothing. 

Mabel was puzzled by her little companion. 
She knew he was keeping a secret from her, and 
she knew also that the suppression of this secret 

247 


248 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

was very bad for him. But Jerry was a curious 
little personality. When he made up his mind 
not to speak of a thing, nothing would induce him 
to allude to it. 

The day went by and Saturday morning 
arrived. Adolphe once again took the carriage 
to the station. The Great Physician did not 
arrive. Then Jerry could no longer pretend. He 
was very brokenhearted. His appetite failed. 
He was so sad that even in Mabel’s presence he 
could not pretend to be cheerful. 

Dolly and Adolphe were both very much 
puzzled about him ; Dolly because she could 
not possibly guess his secret, Adolphe because he 
knew it to a certain extent, but did not dare to 
speak of it. It was truly worse than any cham- 
pagne he had ever drunk. It went to the foot- 
man’s head and made him giddy. It trembled 
minute by minute and hour by hour on his lips. 
It caused him to sigh. It made him so abstracted 
at meal times that the rest of the servants at 
Courtlands and most certainly Dolly herself no 
longer thought him agreeable. The other maids 
twitted him and accused him of mourning for the 
absent Zaidee, and Dolly felt a queer little twinge 
of jealousy, which sensation would not at all have 
gratified Joe Dunton, could he have known of its 
existence. 

The footman actually suffered on account of 
Great Physician and little pale, sad Boy, and from 
the strange fact which he knew now so well, that a 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


249 

letter so addressed could not possibly reach the 
person for whom it was meant. 

Dolly tried to coax Jerry with every sort of 
imaginable dainty, and Adolphe offered many 
times a day to take him for a ride right through 
that wood which was full of lions and tigers. In 
short, both the servants would have done anything 
for the little man who was so patient and sad, but 
never complained, and who suffered so intensely. 

It was Mabel, however, who took the bull by 
the horns. Mabel had a good deal of determina- 
tion, notwithstanding her apparent gentleness. 
She was not, she said to herself, going to put up 
with this state of things any longer. 

It was Sunday morning when she determined 
to break the ice at any cost. Jerry was in his 
hammock. The day was very hot. It was sadly 
close, and there was a feeling of thunder in the 
air. Mabel drew up the Colonel’s chair close to 
Jerry’s side, and announced her intention of not 
going to church. She expected Jerry boy to 
expostulate, for he liked Mabel to go to church in 
order that she might tell him afterwards just how 
everything was done, what the clergyman had 
said, and what hymns the little boys in white had 
sung. But this morning he took no notice. 
Mabel at last bent towards him. 

“ Fitz.” 

Yes,” he answered. 

“ What’s up, little playmate ? ” 

Oh, nothing that you could understand. 


THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


250 

Mabel,” he answered in his gentle, far-off voice — 
the voice that made people respect him, the voice 
with which he very gently and very politely re- 
pelled too intimate advances. It was the voice of 
one who was holding a very sacred treasure at 
bay. Mabel knew that tone. It chilled her as it 
had already chilled that big, soldierly person, that 
V.C. hero, Colonel Digby. 

She sat back in her chair feeling slightly hurt. 
Nevertheless she had the temerity of a woman, 
and where no man would dream of intruding, 
Mabel, ‘‘ greater than the angels,” approached. 

“ Look here,” she said, ‘‘ this state of things is 
all nonsense. You have got something on your 
mind, and you had much better tell me. You 
don’t want to get worse, do you ? ” 

Worse ? ” said Jerry. 

“ Yes — downright ill, I mean. The Colonel 
and Aunt Cecilia are returning on Wednesday.” 

Jerry bent forward in his hammock. 

‘‘ Mabel,” he said, “ if I thought ” 

‘‘ What, Jerry boy ? ” 

If I thought — that you could put them 
off to — say, till Saturday — I’d — I’d tell you 
everything, Mabel.” 

But *1 couldn’t,” said Mabel. 

She was immensely relieved at these words of 
Jerry’s, although they astonished her beyond 
expression. His cheeks were flushed, and his 
eyes were too bright for health. 

Perhaps you could — if you liked. May,” he 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


251 

^aid in his most endearing tones. ‘‘ You are a 
wonderful nice girl ; and you could write a lovely 
letter. You could make a sort of ’scuse, you 
know.” 

‘‘ But why should I ? ” said Mabel. ‘‘ I thought 
you loved the Colonel.” 

“ I do,” said Jerry, “ but I love my mother 
best.” 

“ Well,” said Mabel, “ perhaps Aunt Cecilia 
could be got to stay if she was having any special 
fun, but as a matter of fact, I don’t think the 
Colonel would remain an hour longer than he 
could help away from you.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Jerry, lying back in his hammock. 
“ Then there isn’t — no hope.” 

. ‘‘ Come, Jerry boy,” said Mabel, “ tell me all 
about it.” 

“ It’s my secret,” said Jerry. 

“ But you have told Adolphe — I know you 
have, because Dolly has acquainted me with the 
fact. Surely if you can tell a man like Adolphe, 
you might tell your own playmate.” 

“ Adolphe’s a very beautiful and brave man,” 
iaid Jerry. “ Men tell things to other men ; 
it’s sort o’ right, isn’t it. It isn’t fair to trouble 
women and girls.” 

“ Oh, that is all nonsense,” said Mabel. “ You 
have a wrong idea with regard to girls, Jerry. 
Now I am the sort of girl who loves secrets, and 
I can keep them — oh, like anything — and I 
have been about the world a good bit and under- 


252 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

stand a lot more how to manage matters — even 
for a little boy like you, than Adolphe does. 
For Adolphe is just an ignorant person, although 
of course he is very nice indeed. But I under- 
stand matters better than he does.” 

“ Perhaps,” said Jerry reflectively. 

He looked at her with watchful eyes. She 
wished as she returned his gaze that his little 
mouth was not so firm nor his expression so 
dogged. 

“ If Jerry boy ever does grow up a man,” 
thought the girl, he will be a downright deter- 
mined one as determined in his own way as 

the Colonel, indeed, I rather fancy more so.” 

She turned the matter over in her mind. There 
was something weighing on the child’s heart, and 
the child’s strength was too feeble to bear it. 
He was eating next to nothing. His little face 
was not only white, it was also transparent. 
His eyes were too big and too shadowy and much 
too full of the Major-Ramsey look. 

“ Of course,” said Mabel who, with a woman’s 
true wiles, thought that she could beguile Jerry’s 
secret from him, “ if your wish, Jerry boy, is that 
Uncle Cyril and Aunt Cecilia should not return 
until Saturday, I might manage it if I knew ; I 
can do nothing, nothing whatever if I don’t 
know.” 

Jerry looked intensely wistful. 

“ Couldn’t you manage it afore you know ? ” 
he asked. 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


253 


‘‘ No, I certainly can’t do that,” said Mabel. 
** I must have a good reason to go upon ; for 
to tell you the truth, boy, if I yield to my present 
inclination, Fll send a wire to Uncle Cyril to-day 
to come straight back to look after you, for I 
don’t like your looks.” 

“ It’s ’cause I am waiting,” said Jerry ; “ and 
I am in espense — that is what I am in. Once 
Mrs. Cole was in espense. She was waiting for a 
letter from her son who was wounded in Africa — 
time of the war, you know. She couldn’t eat 
nothing, and she used to put her hand to her 
heart and sigh most bitter. I asked her what was 
the matter, and she said always it was ’cause she 
was in espense. That’s what I am in. You 
can’t never eat when you are in espense, Mabel, 
and you can’t sleep much ; you’re sort o’ restless. 
That’s the way I am in now. You understand, 
don’t you, Mabel ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, I know all about suspense,” said Mabel, 
‘‘ but I can’t make out why you should be in that 
sort of condition ; and that is what I want you to 
tell me.” 

As Mabel said the last words, she went on her 
knees. She came up close to Jerry. Her pretty 
face was within a foot or so of his, and her gentle 
hands pushed the curly locks back from his brow. 

‘‘ Tell playmate, won’t you, Jerry boy ? ” 

Jerry looked into her kind eyes and then all of 
a sudden his resolution gave way. He must 
either cry or tell her. Of course he would not cry, 


254 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

80 there was no alternative — the words tumbled 
from his lips. 

‘‘ I wrote letter,” he said, ** to Great Physician, 
and he never corned. I thought first day it was 
^cause of other cripple boys. But yesterday — he 
might have come yesterday, and he might have 
come to-day, but he hasn’t come. He can’t 
come now till Monday, and I don’t ’spect him 
then somehow, and even if he did come, there’d 
be only Monday and Tuesday left, and I 
couldn’t ’spect to be well in two days, could 
Mabel ? Now, you know why I want Colonel and 
mother to stay away till Saturday, and p’raps you, 
Mabel, could write to Great Physician and tell 
him to come quick. He is not exactly like Jesus 
Christ, or he wouldn’t keep a little boy waiting 
who’s in a ’mendous hurry. But I s’pose he 
can’t help it. Anyhow, you might write.” 

Mabel sat down on the grass by the hammock. 
The Colonel’s wicker chair was too far off. Jerry’s 
revelation was too intimate ; she must be close 
to him. His confidence was of the sacred kind 
which could only be replied to in low whispers. 

They fell to talking very gently together. The 
colour had leapt into Mabel’s cheeks, and she 
looked distractingly pretty. She was soon in the 
very heart of the secret. When it was all told, 
every scrap of it, and Mabel was aware of Jerry 
boy’s determined resolution to run the risk which 
might mean the parting of soul from body, the 
girl very quickly made up her mind. 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


255 


“ Now, look here,” she said. You have 
trusted me with your secret. You must not 
blame Sir Arnold, for he, of course, never got 
your letter : you didn’t address it right.” 

“ I put ‘ Great Physician, London,’ ” said 
Jerry. 

“ That is not enough,” said Mabel, in her mat- 
ter of fact voice, although she was perilously near 
tears. “ There are other big doctors in London. 
Perhaps the letter will be returned here in a few 
days, but it will never get to Sir Arnold.” 

“ That is a pity,” sighed Jerry, “ ’cause there 
was a ’mendous big blot on the top. That’s 
meant for a kiss, you know. Adolphe and I took 
’mendous pains over it.” 

• Yes — yes. Now, you will be a darling, 
and not ask me too many questions. I am taking 
your side, even against dear Uncle Cyril ; but I 
must do things my own way. You will promise 
to eat some dinner and be cheerful and jolly, for 
if you are not, Jerry boy, and Sir Arnold does 
come to see you, he will just refuse point blank 
to turn you into a running, jumping, schoolboy 
sort of fellow. He will leave you as you are. He 
will say you are much, much too weak for anything 
else. Now you understand.” 

Jerry said he did. “ You’ll manage ’bout 
Colonel, and mother ? ” he queried, ‘‘ and you’ll 
write to Great Physician ? ” 

“ I will manage my own way ; you must trust 
me. Now I am going into the house. I shall 


2s6 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

send Doll;/ out to you. Dolly will read to you 
or not, just as you please.’’ 

“ I’d rather be quite my lone self,” said Jerry. 
‘‘ Does you mind, Mabel ? ” 

“ No, Dolly shall come in half an hour, then. 
Good-bye for the present. I am so glad you 
have trusted me, playmate.” 

Mabel entered the house. Dolly, all anxiety, 
came out to meet her. . 

‘‘ How is the poor little fellow, miss ? ” 

“ I think he is much better, Dolly, thank you,” 
said Mabel in a cheerful tone. “ Please, Dolly, 
go to him in about half an hour, but not sooner, 
and please send Adolphe to me ; I want to speak 
to him.” 

“ Yes, miss,” said Dolly obediently. 

Mabel entered one of the sitting-rooms. The 
cool, green blinds were down. The place looked 
shaded and peaceful. Adolphe appeared almost 
immediately. 

“ Adolphe,” said the girl, I wish to tell you 
that your little master has confided in me about 
the letter.” 

‘‘ By the powers I ” cried Adolphe. 

“ I beg your pardon ? ” said Mabel. 

“ I beg yours, miss. I was that took of a heap. 
I am relieved as never were that you should know, 
miss. To tell you the truth, Miss Laurence, I 
couldn’t have held it in much longer, seeing as 
the child was fretting hisself to death afore my 
eyes.” 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


257 

“Well, that is all right,” said Mabel. “I 
know now, and you have no further responsibility. 
Don’t speak of it to Dolly, though.” 

“ No, miss.” 

“ Adolphe, I want the carriag^e round in a 
quarter of an hour.” 

“ Yes, miss.” 

“ The pony carriage. I will drive the ponies 
myself, and you can sit behind. I prefer you to 
Dan on this occasion.” 

“ Yes, miss,” said Adolphe. 

“ Because you know and Dan doesn’t,” pro- 
ceeded Mabel in her most artful tones. 

“ Certainly, miss, certainly ; I am proud to 
oblige you, miss.” 

Well, give my orders,” said Mabel. '‘Be 
sure the pony carriage is at the front entrance in 
a quarter of an hour. Now go.” 

The man withdrew. Mabel during that quar- 
ter of an hour wrote a hurried letter and prepared 
a hurried telegram. When the carriage arrived 
she entered it and drove herself down the avenue 
to the tinkling music of the ponies’ bells. 

The pony carriage was a beautiful little equipage 
specially built for Mrs. Digby, but Mabel felt 
she had every right to use it in her aunt’s absence. 
Adolphe sat behind, his arms folded. 

How he did admire Miss Mabel as she manipu- 
lated her ponies, causing them by a dexterous 
touch of the whip now and then almost to fly 
over the dust-laden roads. 


17 


the colonels conquest* 

They presently reached the town, which was 
situated a good many miles away. There Mabel 
drew up at the post office. It was a large central 
post office, the special one of the district. From 
there she could send a telegram on Sunday. A 
telegram addressed to * Colonel Digby, Invera, 
Perthshire ’ accordingly started on its winged 
journey, and a letter to Sir Arnold Brewster was 
dropped into the slit for such letters, outside the 
big building. Mabel then drove back to Court- 
lands, feeling comparatively light at heart. 

That was a summer long to be remembered all 
over both England and Scotland. For long 
weeks there was not a drop of rain. The sun 
shone persistently out of a cloudless sky. The 
parched earth asked for moisture all in vain. In 
some ways that same earth resembled the weary 
heart of a little boy who in vain asked — all in 
vain — for the most natural love in the world — 
the love of a mother for her child. 

Mrs. Digby was enjoying herself at Invera. It 
is true the Colonel’s presence had a certain 
restraining influence. He never appeared to v/atch 
her, he was far too gentlemanly for that, but, all 
the same, she knew that he was well aware of how 
she passed her time. He had a way of occasionally 
glancing at her which caused her heart — that is, 
her physical heart — to beat a trifle fast. But 
nobody else remarked it. To the rest of the 
party, Mrs. Digby was a fascinating and adorable 
presence, and her husband was a right good fellow. 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


259 

a first-rate sportsman, and a fairly good after- 
dinner companion. In the drawing-room, it 
is true, he was not quite so successful, for he 
never especially cared to talk to women, and pre- 
ferred to keep himself a little aloof, or, if possible, 
not to enter the presence of the ladies except 
when it was absolutely necessary. 

On the very Sunday when Jerry had confided 
his secret of secrets to Mabel Laurence, Mrs. 
Digby had gone to the neighbouring church with 
several other members of the party. There was 
a large church of the Episcopal Church of Scotland 
not very far from Castle Invera, and several 
wagonettes and carriages of all descriptions were 
put at the service of the guests. Mrs. Digby 
asked her husband if he would like to go. He 
replied in the negative. She frowned. 

“ I wonder,” she said, “ that you care openly 
to neglect the house of God as you do.” 

He made no response to this. One of his most 
trying ways was his habit of, to all appearance, 
ignoring her remarks. She stood silently watching 
him. She looked more girlish than ever, for the 
pure country air had brought a little natural 
colour to her cheeks which were, in consequence, 
hardly touched with rouge at all. 

She wore a white spotted veil over her large 
picture hat with its enormous curling ostrich 
feather. Her dress was white also. As she spoke 
to her husband, she was drawing a long white 
glove up her arm. A small prayer book with a 


26 o the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

gold clasp lay on a table near. She took it up. 

Well, I must be going,” she said. “ Sorry 
you don’t care about church.” 

“ J will see you to your carriage,” he said. 

Several other ladies, all gaily and fashionably 
dressed, were waiting in the great hall. Many 
of them were pretty, most of them were young, 
but Mrs. Digby on that special occasion bore the 
palm for beauty even in the face of the youngest 
girl present. There was an elegance about her, 
a sort of dainty grace and charm, an absolute 
finish which no other woman present could aspire 
to. 

Lowndes, a tall, very well groomed individual, 
who was standing beside one of the great pillars 
that supported the hall, came forward as she 
approached. Digby immediately stepped back. 
A. minute later, Mrs. Digby was driving to church 
in a pony carriage beside Mr. Lowndes. She 
had not meant openly to defy her husband in 
this respect ; nevertheless, irritated by his man- 
ner, the sudden temptation to annoy him was too 
much. 

As they went to church, Lowndes turned and 
spoke to her. 

Why do you cut me on all possible occasions ? 
What have I done ? ” 

She shrugged her shoulders. 

‘‘ Don’t ask me,” she said after a pause. ‘‘ Ac- 
cept the inevitable. We can’t possibly be friends.” 

A very ugly expression crossed his face. He 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 261 

bent towards her and dropped a word into her 
ear. 

‘‘ Oh, don’t ! ” she said. 

She felt terribly frightened, but at the same 
time fascinated. Lowndes could at least be 
civil to her. She had always liked him. Why 
should she allow that tyrant of a husband, who she 
felt convinced did not half or quarter appreciate 
her charms, to rule all her life ? 

As they approached the church, she turned and 
looked at the man. 

“ I did exceedingly wrong to allow you to 
drive me to church. You must not encroach 
upon this. The past is past. After my husband’s 
death, things were different. Now I am married 
again. Colonel Digby is particular.” 

“ There are things I could tell him,” was 
Lowndes’s answer. “ You do wrong to break 
with me.” 

She felt her heart beating in a very frightened 
way. 

‘‘ You promised me faithfully that the past 
was to be past,” she said. “ You do not know 
Colonel Digby.” 

I don’t want to know him any better ; but 
I wish to have a word with you. Will you 
meet me in the fir wood at five o’clock this after- 
noon ? I shall be waiting for you under the big 
fir tree — the one with the notch cut in it. Don’t 
fail me ; I can explain matters to you then ; and 
you perhaps will explain things to me.” 


262 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 


She was silent. 

“ Promise,” he said, bending towards her. 

“ I — very well,” she answered. 

When his wife and the rest of the visitors had 
driven away to church. Colonel Digby took a 
seat not far from the house. There he smoked 
pipe after pipe and thought sometimes of Jerry, 
sometimes of his wife. She had disobeyed his 
express injunction. She would perceive that 
he was a man of his word. He would take her 
home early to-morrow. On the whole, he was 
glad. 

“ There is nothing to be done with such a 
woman except to guard her from herself,” was his 
thought ; but I shall see the boy two days sooner 
than I intended. There are some people as 
slippery as eels : when you think you have them, 
they glide out of your grasp. That is the sort 
my wife is. Well, at least Lowndes, that low 
brute, shall have nothing further to do with 
her. How she can bear him even to speak to her 
beats me.” 

The Colonel thought a little longer. His 
thought presently resolved itself into action. He 
went into the house, and asked for a railway 
guide. He was in the act of looking up the 
trains which would best suit his intended depar- 
ture on the morrow when a page put a telegram 
into his hand. 

He opened it. It was from Mabel. The 
words ran as follows : 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 263 

Come back alone and at once if you can. 
Anxious about Jerry boy.’ 

Never was a more disturbing message put into 
any man’s hands. The Colonel read it once, 
twice ; then thrust the flimsy bit of paper into 
his pocket. 

“ Any answer, sir ? ” said the page. 

‘‘ None. I shall want the dog-cart or some- 
thing to take me to the railway station. Where is 
Lord Inver a ? ” 

‘‘ His lordship is in the peach garden, I think, 
sir.” 

Digby walked slowly in that direction, slowly as 
though his legs were weighted with lead. He 
was still holding the time table in his hand. 
The old nobleman came forward to meet him. 

Well, Colonel,” he said, “ and so you have 
found me out. Splendid promise of fruit here 
eh?” 

“ Yes, very flne,” said Colonel Digby abstract- 
edly. ‘‘ By the way, I have just had a wire from 
home. Little chap not the thing.” 

“ Your son ? ” said Lord Invera. 

“ My stepson. I ought to go to him. Very 
sorry to have to terminate my visit, but there’s no 
help for it.” 

“ I am sorry for the cause. Colonel.” 

The Colonel still looked uncomfortable. 

‘‘ I have taken the liberty to order a convey- 
ance,” he said. “ I can catch a train which stops 


264 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

at Invera ” — he named the little town, — ‘‘ at 
ten minutes to one.” 

“ You’ll scarcely manage it, Colonel Digby.” 

« Yes, I shall.” 

“ But,” said Lord Invera, your wife — she 
is, I believe, at church : I saw her go. She 
won’t be back ” 

‘‘ I am going to trespass on your hospitality 
and ask you to* allow my wife to remain until she 
hears from me,” said Colonel Digby. 

‘‘ With the greatest possible pleasure,” said 
Lord Invera. “ I know my own wife will be 
delighted. Your wife is a charming woman, 
Digby, most charming, and beautiful. Very 
sorry for your news — hope nothing really serious.” 

“ I trust not,” said Colonel Digby, ‘‘ but it 
needs attending to.” 

Then of course the boy’s mother,” began 
Lord Invera. 

“ Ah, yes,” said Digby. I want to spare 
her feelings. If there is real danger, of course I 
shall — wire.” 

“ You are a first-rate fellow,” said Lord Invera. 
‘‘ Every husband would not be so considerate.” 

The old man thought as he accompanied the 
Colonel to the house that he himself would 
certainly not be so, and that if in the days of the 
past when his children, who were fathers and 
mothers themselves now, had any of them been 
in a like condition, and he had concealed the fact 
from Lady Invera, that passionate but excellent 


GREAT PHYSICIAN 


265 

woman would have half killed him for his false 
kindness. It was not his place, however, to 
interfere with other men, and Digby was the sort 
who knew his mind. 

Digby wrote a hasty line to his wife — 

Boy not quite well. Going to him at once. 
Will send for you if wanted. Remember your 
promise. — Cyril Digby.” 

He enclosed the pencilled lines in an envelope, 
which lay on one of the tables in the great hall to 
await Mrs. Digby on her return 


CHAPTER XX 


“ God bless you, May ” 

ROSS-COUNTRY trains are slow on Sun- 



days, and although Colonel Digby used 
every possible despatch, he found he could not 
reach Courtlands until an early hour the following 
morning. 

It was six o’clock when he walked into his own 
house. But early as it was, Mabel was up, for, 
somehow, Mabel expected him. 

She was standing on the terrace, sunlit now, 
which ran along one side of the house. Her 
little face with its crown of pretty chestnut hair 
was somewhat pale from anxiety. She was wear- 
ing one of those simple frocks which had so 
delighted Jerry boy when they were at Folkestone 
together. 

When she saw the Colonel, she ran to meet 
him. 

“ Oh, how good you are ! how good you are ! ” 
she said. ‘‘ I thought somehow, you’d come at 
once, and alone.” 

She caught both his hands and burst into 
tears. 


266 


‘‘ GOD BLESS YOU, MAY ” 267 

Jove, Mabel ! ’’ said Colonel Digby, “ what- 
ever is the matter ? I have been on tenterhooks 
ever since I got that wire of yours. I am 
in the celebrated position of being between 
the devil and the deep blue sea. Your re- 
quest that I should leave his mother behind 
has puzzled me, Mabel. What does it all 
mean ? ” 

“ I will tell you,” said Mabel. “ Walk with 
me up and down on the terrace. Jerry is asleep 
now, but a little more ” 

“ What do you mean ? Surely the boy is not 
seriously ill — I mean not in — in danger ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Mabel. He is pretty 
frail, is Jerry. This thing can’t go on.” 

“ Well, out with it, my girl : explain yourself 
and be brief.” 

“ I wiU, Uncle Cyril.” 

The Colonel looked at her moodily. There 
never was a more moody face when he was in, as 
Mabel expressed it, his bad humours. Then the 
kindliness in the blue eyes was quenched. They 
assumed a harassed, worried expression. The 
sunburnt face became red all over. The carking 
cares of life were clearly manifest on the harassed 
brow, on the furrowed cheek. The Colonel was 
in his worst humour on the present occasion. To 
leave his wife, as it were, in the toils of the foe, 
to leave a woman of her nature behind at all, with 
such a party as was just then assembled at Invera, 
gave Digby a sense of loathing. Nevertheless, 


268 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

that imperative little telegram must be obeyed. 
The Colonel could not help himself. He felt 
driven to obey the whim of a girl. 

But if this was indeed only a whim, then Mabel 
would repent of her silliness for many a long 
day. 

“I will tell you,’’ said Mabel — her hear twas beat- 
ing a trifle, but for Jerry’s sake she must be brave — 
“ the moment I got your telegram. Uncle Cyril, 
I came back. I arrived the evening of the day 
that you left. Adolphe and Dolly had taken 
Jerry for a long ride in his sedan chair. He was 
looking very white, little darling, but the expres- 
sion of his face was quite joyful, and he was so 
glad to see me. But the next morning I began to 
perceive that there was something wrong. He 
had a secret on his mind, and not for the world 
would he let it out. All that day he was not him- 
self although he pretended to be. You know his 
way, don’t you. Uncle Cyril ? ” 

“ Jove, yes ! ” said the Colonel, who was begin- 
ning to forget his wife in his anxiety about the 
boy. “ He is the most obstinate little beggar on 
earth ! ” 

“ Yes,” said Mabel ; ‘‘ he has a very strong 
character.” 

“ You are right there. May.” 

“ Well, that was Friday,” said Mabel ; and 
on Saturday things were a little worse, and Jerry 
refused his food and would not take a drive in his 
sedan chair and liked best to be alone, and his face 


GOD BLESS YOU, MAY ’’ 269 

was whiter and whiter. I knew, of course, he 
had a secret, and I did my best to get at it. But 
do you think he’d give himself away ? ” 

“ Guess not,” said the Colonel. 

“ He had confided it to Adolphe, though.” 

Bless me ! ” said the Colonel. “ The foot- 
man ? ” 

“ Yes ; he had evidently got to the right 
side of Adolphe, and the man would let out no- 
thing. On Sunday, I could see that Jerry was 
really ill, although he was pretending to keep up, 
and I — in short. Uncle Cyril — I got the truth 
from him. He is a little hero, that’s what Jerry 
is. He had made up a plan in his little mind ; 
what do you think it was ? ” 

“ Can’t say, wish you’d be quick. May.” 

‘‘ You know about Sir Arnold ? ” 

“ Hang that man ! ” said the Colonel. “ Guess 
I do know about him. Surely the boy isn’t 
harping still on that ? ” 

Mabel laid her pretty hand with a soothing, 
womanly gesture on the Colonel’s big arm. 

“ You can’t hang Sir Arnold,” she said, ‘‘ for 
he is out of your reach altogether, and — ^Jerry 
will never forget him, for he believes in him. 

Jerry has made up his mind ” 

“ Go on,” said the Colonel. 

“ He planned everything : right or wrong, he 
was a little hero about it. Call it a craze or not, 
as you like. Uncle Cyril, it’s a noble one, it’s 
plucky.” 


270 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Oh, as to pluck,” said the Colonel ; ‘‘ the 
boy’s his father’s boy.” 

“ That is it. Uncle Cyril. Well, he wrote a 
letter to Sir Arnold.” 

“ He didn’t ! ” said the Colonel. 

“ He did. Uncle Cyril. He asked him to come 
pretty sharp to see him.” 

“ And ? ” said the Colonel. What ? Speak. 
Sir Arnold would never do — go on, Mabel, go on.” 

‘‘ He didn’t come. Uncle.” 

“ Didn’t come ? ” said the Colonel, changing 
his tone to one of as fierce anger against Sir 
Arnold for disregarding the boy as he had felt 
against the boy a minute ago for summoning him. 
“ Took no notice of a little chap like that. 
Somehow, I don’t believe it ! ” 

“ It has nearly killed Jerry,” said Mabel ; “ but 
Sir Arnold could not help it, for do you know 
that poor darling Jerry boy thought that if he 
addressed the letter to ‘ Great Physician, London ’ 
it would find him. He never got the letter, so he 
didn’t come.” 

The Colonel gave a choked noise. It might 
have been a laugh, but it was not. It might 
have been a groan, but it was not that exactly 
either. The hardness went out of his eyes on 
the spot. They wore that softened, hazy look 
which men’s eyes wear when tears are perilously 
near. 

“ So,” continued Mabel, “ as you. Uncle Cyril, 
were far away, and as there was no time to be 


“GOD BLESS YOU, MAY” 271 


lost, I felt it in my bones, Uncle Cyril, that there 
was no time to be lost, I wrote a letter myself to 
Sir Arnold Brewster ” 

“ You did that, Mabel — a young girl like you ? ” 

“ Yes, I did that,” said Mabel. She spoke stoutly ; 
she paused in her walk. She turned and faced 
Colonel Digby. “ I did that,” she continued, 
“ and I am not ashamed, and I am not frightened. 
I told Sir Arnold as well as I could what had 
happened, and all about Jerry’s desire, and I left 
it to him to decide whether he would come or not. 
I think myself he will come to-day, and I think. 
Uncle Cyril, that if he does come, you must yield 
your will to whatever he decides, for it is my firm 
impression that the present state of things is killing 
Jerry. He is very young in years, but his heart is 
too big for his body, and his soul is too big for his 
body. Altogether, Uncle Cyril, operation or no 
operation, we shall lose Jerry boy altogether if 
we don’t give him his heart’s desire. His wish of 
all wishes is that he should be well before his 
mother comes back. That is why I wired to you 
to return at once and why I asked you to come 
alone.” 

“ I see,” answered the Colonel. He was silent 
for a long time ; then he patted Mabel’s little 
hand. 

“ God bless you. May. You are a capital 
girl ! ” he said. “ I will go and change my things 
now and have a bath. Then I will see the little 
chap. 


CHAPTER XXI 


The Rough Little Boy 

I N the course of the morning a telegram 
arrived from Sir Arnold Brewster. In this he 
signified his intention of coming to Courtlands 
by a train which would cause him to arrive early 
in the afternoon. 

It was Mabel who went to meet him. She did 
this by Colonel Digby’s desire. Colonel Digby 
himself remained with Jerry boy. Jerry was not 
in the garden, although the day was warm with 
that pleasant warmth which stimulates without 
depressing. A breeze was stirring the tops of the 
trees and causing the roses to shed their petals ; 
and the scent of the roses came in through the 
open windows of Jerry boy’s beautiful bedroom. 

It was a bedroom that any boy would love, for 
the Colonel had taken care that the boy should 
have the best of everything. There were pictures 
on the walls, and these pictures illustrated scenes 
in which brave men performed brave deeds. 
Just above the boy’s bed was a photogravure 
of Watts’s Standard Bearer, and somehow the 
look on the boy’s face in the picture was 

272 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 273 

a little like the look of the boy who lay in the 
bed. 

When the Colonel had come into the room that 
morning and spoken in his matter of fact way to 
Jerry, he had asked the child if he would like to get 
up. 

Jerry had said, Yes, presently. Thank you 
so much, Colonel.” But he had turned very 
white when he saw the Colonel, so white that 
that most gallant officer, that Member of the 
great Order of the Victoria Cross, felt afraid to 
allude to Sir Arnold Brewster or even to account 
for his own sudden return to Courtlands. 

“ Has my mother come back ? ” asked Jerry 
presently. 

The Colonel said “ No,” and a faintly pleased 
expression came over the boy’s face. 

The Colonel and Jerry had breakfast together, 
but Jerry’s breakfast was only a pretence, the poor 
Colonel himself in consequence nearly choked 
over his food. He ate because Jerry wanted him 
to, but the excellent fare provided for him was 
as ashes in his mouth. 

“ Jove ! ” thought the Colonel. ‘‘ I am glad 
Mabel wrote to Brewster. If we don’t hear 
presently that the great man is coming. I’ll wire 
to him or run up to town and fetch him myself. 
Jove, I don’t like the look on the boy’s face a 
bit.” 

The Colonel was unpleasantly reminded of that 
scene in the tent on the Indian frontier. A man 

18 


274 the COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

had looked into his face then as a little boy was 
looking at him now. 

“ It must be precious hot in that bed of yours,” 
said the Colonel, wishing with all his heart as he 
spoke that Jerry would question him in his usual 
eager way and ask why he had come and what 
he had done while he was away, and why his 
mother had not returned with him. 

But Jerry boy did not ask a single question. 

“ You must be just melting to nothing in your 
little bed,” said the Colonel again. “ Won’t you 
try to get up, lazy bones ? Suppose I help you 
on with your things same as I did on that cele- 
brated night of the blue pyjamas ? ” 

“ Presently, thank you so much. Colonel,” 
answered Jerry ; and that was his invariable reply 
all during the morning, so that the poor Colonel 
was nearly beside himself with anxiety ; for the 
child complained of nothing, only he was silent 
and did not eat, and looked queer. 

A telegram from Sir Arnold Brewster was there- 
fore an immense relief, and the Colonel could not 
say often enough to himself what a specially 
capital girl Mabel was. He really felt that but 
for her promptitude and common sense he would 
have lost his senses in the present strained position. 

Mabel brought Sir Arnold Brewster to the 
house soon after four o’clock. She entered 
Jerry’s room with a bright resolved look on her 
face and when she came in the Colonel went out. 
The Colonel went down to receive his most 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 275 

welcome guest. Mabel remained with Jerry. 
She took Jerry boy’s limp little hand. 

‘‘ Look at me, Jerry boy,” she said. 

Jerry turned and gave her one of his solemn 
glances. 

‘‘ It’s all right,” said Mabel. 

“ What ? ” asked Jerry. 

“ The Good Physician has come at last. He is 
downstairs.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Jerry. The colour filled his cheeks 
and a new light came into his eyes ; but then it 
faded. 

‘‘ It’s ’bout too late,” he said. “ Colonel’s 
come. Colonel won’t let it. I can’t be mother’s 
boy ever, ever now.” 

“ Oh, yes, you can,” said Mabel. “ Now cheer 
up ; there is nothing that the Colonel wouldn’t do 
for you, Jerry, even — even this. Only be brave.” 

She ran out of the room. Really, some things 
were hard for girls. She heard steps on the 
stairs. She heard them coming down the corridor 
towards Jerry’s room. She rushed into her own, 
bolted the door and burst into tears. 

“ I have done it ! ” she murmured under her 
breath. “ I wonder if it will kill him. Oh, Jerry 
boy, Jerry boy ! ” 

Sir Arnold had a very pleasant invigorating 
manner. He was the sort of man who never 
for a single moment gave himself a thought, and 
who was so tremendously occupied in making sick 
people well and maimed people whole that he had 


276 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

no time even to think of the small worries of life. 

He entered the little boy’s room now with that 
breath of fresh air about him which is always so 
inspiring. 

“ Hallo ! ” he said. ‘‘ Why, what is this ? ” 

He sat down by the child and, taking his little 
hot hand, immediately ascertained the fact that 
the boy was suffering just then from a sort of 
nervous fever. 

‘‘ So you wrote to me ? ” he said, “ and paid me 
about the biggest compliment I ever got in all 
my life.” 

Pity you didn’t come afore,” murmured 
Jerry. 

“ I apologize ten thousand times,” said Sir 
Arnold, “ but you see the people at the General 
Post Office didn’t think quite as highly of me as 
you did, and they never forwarded the letter. 
I’ll manage to get it, however, I would not lose a 
letter addressed to me like that for a kingdom. 
Well, here I am at last. You want to talk to 
me. 

“ Yes,” said Jerry. 

Sir Arnold looked at the Colonel. 

“ Suppose, Colonel,” he said, “ this little boy 
and I have a few minutes’ private conversation. 
His letter was private, you see, and ought to be 
answered in the same manner.” 

“ Yes, I see,” grunted the Colonel. 

He went out of the room, but only to remain 
in the passage. 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 


277 

“ Now, little chap,’* said Sir Arnold, “ what is 
it ? ” 

“ Want you to do it,” said Jerry. 

“ Want me to do what ? ” 

“ Great Physician,” said Jerry, “ may I hold 
your hand ? ” 

“ If you like,” said the doctor. 

“ I want you to make the lame to walk,” said 
Jerry. “ Don’t mind even if ” 

‘‘ Even if what ? ” said the doctor. ‘‘ You 
must speak up, little man.” 

“ Even if it’s wings you give me, ’stead of 
legs, must have one or t’other. Can’t stay like 
this. It’s cause of — ^well, ’cause of my father and 
mother ” 

Your father seems a capital chap, little 
man.” 

“ You never saw him, so you can’t say,” 
answered Jerry. 

“ He is waiting outside now. Never saw a better 
sort; never.” 

‘‘ He isn’t my own father,” said Jerry “ My 
own father, what wrote me nine letters, is in 
Heaven country ; and I’d rather, please. Great 
Physician, go to him and not be a cripple boy 
than stay on earth and be a cripple boy. I think,” 
he added, “ mother would like that best too. 
I has charge of mother, you see. She was left to 
me by father, and it’s a great ’ponsibility, and I 
can’t do nothing for her long as I am cripple. I 
think she’d like it much best if I was not cripple in 


278 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

Heaven country than if I was to stay cripple 
here.” 

As Jerry spoke, beads of moisture stood on his 
forehead. The doctor rose very quietly. 

I understand all about it,” he said. ‘‘ Yes, 
of course your feelings are most natural. Now 
we’ll see what can be done. I will call your ” 

‘‘ My Colonel,” said Jerry. 

I’ll call your Colonel in.” 

The Colonel came into the room and there was 
a fresh examination, Jerry bearing it without a 
groan. Then the two men went away. They 
went down to the Colonel’s study, while Mabel, 
who had removed all trace of her tears and dressed 
herself in her very prettiest frock, came back to 
Jerry. 

Colonel Digby and the doctor stood by the open 
window in the Colonel’s study. 

“ That’s a queer little chap,” said Sir Arnold 
at last. “ Terribly overstrung, yoa know ; all 
sentiment and nerve : tremendously affectionate, 
too ; brave as brave can be.” 

He’s a plucky little beggar,” said the Colonel. 
“ I — ^you see. Sir Arnold, after your last visit and 
after what you said, I made up my mind definitely. 
The child was not fit for a dangerous operation. I 
managed to convey the fact to him.” 

“ It didn’t seem to satisfy him, though,” said 
Sir Arnold Brewster. 

Jove, no,” said the Colonel. “ Never met 
such a queer little lad ; fretted like anything.” 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 279 

Don’t you think,” said Sir Arnold after a 
pause, “ that the child’s mother ought to be con- 
sulted ? ” 

“ Well,” said Colonel Digby, ‘‘ no, I don’t 
think so.” 

‘‘ No ? ” said Sir Arnold. The boy is devoted 
to her.” He looked full at the Colonel. “ She 
must be a fine woman,” he said, ‘‘ to have aroused 
that sort of passion in the heart of a little child. I 
never met a little fellow before who was willing 
to do so much for his mother.” 

The Colonel fidgeted. 

“ Is Mrs. Digby at home ? ” 

‘‘ No, she is in Scotland.” 

“ It might be well for you to send for her.” 

‘‘ I think not,” said Colonel Digby. 

The doctor stared hard at him. After a time 
Colonel Digby spoke. 

“ There is a story which I can’t repeat even to 
you,” he said ; “ and that story is connected with 
little Jerry’s mother. The point at present is 
this : what do you mean to do ? ” 

“ Operate without a moment’s delay.” 

Good Heavens ! ” said the Colonel. He 
tottered back against the wall. His red face 
turned white. “ After your last opinion ? ” he 
ventured to stammer at last. 

‘‘ Matters have completely altered,” said the 
doctor. “ It is a case of kill or cure now. The 
boy will die if the operation is not carried out. 
The boy may die under my knife ; but there is a 


28 o the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

chance — on the side of life. He is entitled to 
that chance. I shall operate to-night.’^ 

The Colonel gasped. 

“ To-night ? ” he said. 

‘‘ Yes, can’t you see that the state of his mind 
is killing the boy ? It is more cruel that he should 
die so than that he should die under the effects 
of the operation. Make all preparations that are 
necessary. I was prepared somehow by the letter 
which I received from that nice girl, Miss 
Laurence ; and desired two trained nurses to 
follow me by the next train. Now go upstairs 
and tell the child that it is all right. He’ll be as 
pleased as Punch. Pie is the very pluckiest little 
man.” 

The Colonel staggered out of the room. He 
did not go straight upstairs. On the contrary, he 
entered his dining-room and, taking a bottle of 
brandy from the sideboard, poured himself out a 
stiff dose. He drank it off and felt better. Then 
he went upstairs. 

His mind was in a whirl. No tiger hunt, no 
dangerous bite from a poisonous snake, not even 
that crucial moment in his life when he fought with 
death to save a brother officer and won his Victoria 
Cross was as supreme as this : nay more, there 
was not a single moment in the Colonel’s life 
so great as this present one when he had to put 
self absolutely out of sight and think only of the 
child, who was fast becoming the one idol of his 
life. 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 281 


“ Jove ! ” he said once or twice, uttering the 
word low and being unaware that he had spoken 
it. 

He turned the handle of the boy’s door and 
entered. Jerry was sitting up in bed. He 
was in his blue pyjamas. The Colonel had 
already come to the conclusion that the child 
looked sweeter in them than in anything 
else. 

Mabel had washed his face and brushed back 
his short curly hair. The colour in his cheeks 
made him look for the time almost well. The 
Colonel inwardly groaned. A fierce rebellion 
awoke in his heart. 

‘‘ It’s nothing short of murder to do it ! ” he 
could not help thinking. He had a wild impulse 
to rush downstairs to Sir Arnold and expostulate, 
to tell Sir Arnold what he thought, to explain the 
whole situation, to let the London surgeon see 
into his heart. 

Why should a boy be given a chance of legs to 
w^alk with or wings to fly with, and why should a 
man’s heart be broken ? But when the Colonel 
looked from Jerry to Mabel and saw, although 
she fancied she had quite concealed it, the weari- 
ness caused by tears on her pretty little face, he 
gained sudden courage himself. 

Gates of pearl,” Mabel was saying as he 
entered the room. “ and twelve of them.” 

‘‘ Jove ! ” thought the Colonel, “ what fairy 
tale is she telling the child now ? A gate made 


282 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

of pearl must be a big order,” he said , aloud, 
speaking harshly. ‘‘ You carry your fancies too 
far, Mabel.” 

It’s in the Bible, Colonel : it’s all about 
Heaven country,” said Jerry. 

The Colonel swallowed a lump in his throat. 

‘‘ I say, Mabel, Brewster’s going to wait a bit. 
You had better go down and order some refresh- 
ment for him.” 

Mabel immediately vacated her seat by Jerry’s 
side. 

“ I’m lots better,” said Jerry with a strange 
smile. ‘‘ Is the streets of pure gold, Mabel ? ” 

Yes,” said Mabel. 

‘‘ I wonder,” continued Jerry ‘‘ where the 
River of Life is — if it’s anywhere near the gold 
streets or away — sort o’ by itself under cool 
trees.” 

The Tree of Life is close to it, anyhow,” 
said Mabel, making a dash for the door as she 
spoke. She longed to add, “ And the leaves 
of the tree are for the healing of the nations,” 
but she could not get out the words, for large 
tears were dropping from her eyes. 

The Colonel sat down quietly by Jerry. The 
fierce tussle he had had with himself when he 
first entered the room all of a sudden passed 
away. He felt calm and collected. There was 
always the possibility that the boy might survive 
the operation, and there tvas also the possibility — 
yes, (he would talk to that doctor once again). 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 283 

that it need not be performed at all. He spoke 
therefore in a cheerful voice— 

“ You’re lots better, old man,” he said. 

“ Lots and lots ! ” answered Jerry. “ Fact — 
I’m well, a’most.” 

‘‘ I must tell him,” thought the Colonel, bring- 
ing all his bravery to bear on the subject. I 
must be in earnest, he must decide. 

“ I’ve a bit of news for you,” he said. 

“ What ? ” 

The eyes, so like Major Ramsey’s, were turned 
and fixed on the Colonel’s face. 

“ Sir Arnold Brewster has sent me up to 
have a talk with you. There is no use in con- 
cealing the truth any longer.” 

Jerry’s little face became eager. 

‘‘ He is Great Physician, isn’t he ? ” queried 
the child. 

‘‘ He’ll be a wonderful man if he cures you, 
Jerry boy.” 

“ Oh, ’course he’ll cure me,” said Jerry boy. 

He means to, one way or other,” said the 
Colonel. 

“ He will really do it ? ” said Jerry. 

“Yes ; he will do it if you wish.” 

There was a long pause. Jerry put his hand into 
that of the Colonel. 

“ If — you — doesn’t mind too awful badly,” 
was his next remark. 

The Colonel thought, not of the Victoria Cross, 
but of a crown which it was somewhere, somehow. 


284 the COLONEL'S CONQUEST 

prophesied should be placed on the brow of 
the victor. Would it ever encircle his fore- 
head ? 

There was a long pause. Then he said — 

‘‘ It is all right. I wish it." 

The moment he had uttered the words, a peace, 
greater than he had ever known in his life, des- 
cended over him. The anguish melted from his 
heart. He watched the change on the child’s 
face almost with delight. 

My own, own Colonel ! ” said Jerry. He 
raised the big hand and pressed his lips to it. 

‘‘ It’s to be done, Jerry boy,’’ said Colonel Dig- 
by then, and very soon. You will go to sleep 
and know nothing about anything, and wake to 
find what you most desire has been accomplished.’’ 

“What’s ^accomplished’ ? ’’ asked Jerry. 

“ Done — finished — all over." 

“ All over ? ’’ said Jerry. There was another 
long pause. “ And afterwards, Colonel ? " 

“ Then," said the Colonel, speaking in a bra- 
vado sort of voice, “ you will — get quite well, it 
is to be hoped." 

“ Quite well ? Down here I ’’ said Jerry. 

“ Where else ? ’’ Your home is my home : I 
would not part with you, child, for a king- 
dom." 

“ Know that," said Jerry. “ Awful glad — ^love 
you like anything," 

Again he kissed the hand which was so knobby 
and big and had done such service for its country. 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 285 

‘‘ VvTen I can walk and run,” said Jerry after 
a pause, “ I’ll be able to do lots for you, 
Colonel.” 

‘‘ Oh, won’t you just ? ” said the Colonel. A 
smile illuminated his red face at the very idea. 

“ Perhaps,” said Jerry again — some day — ^we’ll 
go and shoot real tigers in the real jungle.” 

Jove ! ” said the Colonel. “ That would be 
sport ! ” 

“ And you’ll send me to school, and I’ll play 
football, and cricket, and you’ll have me taught 
fencing and every sort of manly thing ? ” 

“ Every manly thing,” said the Colonel. 

“ It’s splendid to think of,” said Jerry. He 
lay v/ith a smile on his little face. “ Mother 
’ll like it, won’t she ? ” 

“ Guess so,” said the Colonel. 

“ ’Bout how soon does doctor think I’ll be well 
enough to jump ? ” 

“ Oh, not for a time ; matters must be a bit 
slow, Jerry boy.” 

“ I see,” said Jerry. 

‘‘ And you must be patient.” 

I see,” said Jerry again. 

Pie looked slightly wistful. Then he turned 
confidingly to the Colonel. 

“ I want so awful bad to show mother when I 
see her next that I am cripple boy no longer.” 

“ The doctor will be able to tell her, Fitz, 
all about it. She will know — well, as soon as 
any one can know.” 


286 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ Won’t she be real pleased ? ” said Jerry. 

“Yes, I think so.” 

A smile came over the little face. 

“ And father’ll be pleased in Heaven country ; 
don’t you think so, Colonel ? ” 

“ Ra“//;<?r,” said the Colonel. 

“ It was getting towards evening. The sun’s 
rays had left the room, and it was all mellow and 
warm in the beautiful afterglow. Jerry lay very 
still. The Colonel sat very still also by the 
boy’s side. He felt somehow amazingly cheered. 
Jerry’s belief in his own recovery was an excellent 
sign. He made up his mind to impress the 
fact on Sir Arnold, and to beg of Sir Arnold to 
give the boy a tip, so to speak — to assure him that 
half the battle in these cases was the patient’s 
own faith in his ultimate recovery. 

But as he was thinking these thoughts Jerry 
spoke again. 

“ Things will be all right,” he said, “ if my leg 
comes straight and I can walk and jump and run 
like other boys and can be a cripple boy no longer 
— the sort as you pity.” 

“ The fact is, Jerry,” said the Colonel, “ people 
admire you too much to pity you.” 

“ Mother sort o’ pities me,” said Jerry, and 
now there was a look of distress in his eye. 

“ She won’t in future,” said the Colonel then. 

“ I know : that is it,” said Jerry. Anyhow^ 
she’ll be pleased. But Colonel, s’pose ” 

“ What are you up to now, lad ? ” 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 287 

‘‘ S’pose afterwards — that — that — it’s wings I 
am to have ” 

‘‘ Oh, I wouldn’t think of that,” said the Colonel. 

Jerry patted the Colonel’s hand. 

“ Yes, you would — if you was me,” he said. 
“ Sp’ose it’s wings — I’m to have. I’ll be just as 
glad, for you see — I’ll go to Heaven country, 
to my own father, and I’ll tell him ’bout mother, 
and the ’mendous great care you take of her ; 
and father and I’ll get ready for her. ‘ Spect 
we’ll have a beautiful house in the Heaven 
country, and gardens, and flowers ; and every 
single thing she wants she’ll find waiting 
for her ; and there’ll be a room for you in our 
house. Colonel — ’course there will. You see. 
Colonel, Heaven country isn’t like this. It must 
be most wonderful, just from what the Bible 
says : and there’s the Tree of Life. Those who 
eat the leaves of the Tree aren’t cripple boys any 
more.” 

“ Oh now, come,” said the Colonel ; ‘‘ all 
that is true enough in one sense, but then little 
boys who have got their work before them, who 
want to please men, of the Colonel type — that’s 
me, you know — don’t think of these things, 
when they are so young. They have got to do 
their work here first. Somehow, I think you’d 
be of more use here than even in Heaven, little 
man.” 

You don’t know,” said Jerry, with his eyes 
very big : “ only God knows.” 


288 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

That is true enough,” said the Colonel. 

“ Well, anyhow,” said Jerry, “ s^fose as it’s 
wings — I’m going to leave it altogether to God, 
’cause He did send Great Physician, even though 
I a-rected the letter wrong ; and Great Physi- 
cian is going to do what I want : but s’pose 
God thinks that Heaven country’s best for me, 
then. Colonel, I want you to do something.” 

‘‘ What, my lad ? ” 

“ They’ll put me, Dolly says, into a box — not 
that I myself will stay there, but they’ll put the 
body of me into a box — that’s it : and I want you 
to put father’s letters ’long side o’ me. There are 
nine of ’em. Be sure you put them ’long side o’ 
me. Only first you may read ’em. You may read 
’em all, beginning at number one, and ending at 
number nine ; and after that, you’ll put them in 
the box ’long side’ o’ me. You promise ? ” 

“ I promise,” said the Colonel. His voice 
was very choky. 

‘‘ That’s all right,” said Jerry. Artcr you’ve 
read letters, you’ll understand ’bout me and 
mother ; and you’ll do for her down here — what 
I can only do for her up in Heaven country. 
You’ll promise, won’t you, Colonel ? ” 

“ Jove, my lad. I’ll have a try ! ” 

“ Seems to me,” said Jerry very gently, “ that 
you doesn’t quite understand my own mother.” 
“ Why do you say that ? ” 

“ ’Cause you leave her to walk lonesome in the 


THE ROUGH LITTLE BOY 289 

“ ril do better in future because of you, boy.” 

“ Know you will,” said Jerry, in his most con- 
fident, most affectionate manner. “ Never was 
nobody like you ’cept my father — and. Colonel — 
Pd like you to have always for your own self the 
lion’s skin. It didn’t seem somehow to be a make- 
believe when we shot him in the wood, did it ? ” 

“ No, no ; nothing so real in all the world,” 
said the Colonel. 

“ You’ll keep his skin, poor feller,” said Jerry, 
‘‘ always, ’cause o’ me ? ” 

‘‘ I will keep the skin, Jerry.” 

‘‘ And my little gun ? ” said Jerry. 

‘‘ Yes.” 

‘‘ P’rhaps by and by,” said Jerry, you’ll go 
out shooting by yourself in the wood. I won’t 
be ’longside o’ you, but you’ll go, ’cause you does 
so enjoy make-believe.” 

“ No,” said the Colonel. He stood up. 

You ask much, my boy. That I cannot do. 
Everything else I will do — everything else : so 
help me, God.” 

The Colonel turned towards the door. Really, 
the situation was unbearable. He had nearly 
reached it when Jerry called him back. Jerry had 
put his hand to his neck and was holding the little 
key fastened to its blue ribbon. With a quick 
movement, he detached the ribbon from its 
place round his throat. 

‘‘ Here is the key,” he said ; “ and the box is 
in that drawer ; and maybe you’d like to read all 

19 


290 THE COLONEL^S CONQUEST 

the letters while Great Physician is making me 
well.” 

‘‘ That’s a good idea,” said the Colonel. 

He took the key reverently in his hand, opened 
the drawer, took out the rough little box and left 
the room. 


CHAPTER XXII 


My Colonel 

TERRY was very weak. The operation was 
safely over. So far all had gone well ; but 
matters had turned out even more dangerous 
than Sir Arnold had anticipated. It was found 
that considerable inflammation had set in round 
the hip joint. A piece of bone had to be re- 
moved and, in short, the boy must have died 
had the operation not been performed ; but 
whether he would live now it was over, God alone 
knew. His frail life hung in the balance. 

But Jerry, although weak, was very happy. He 
was in no pain of any sort, and his heart was ab- 
solutely at rest. His nurses were very nice women. 
They never coerced him — not that he needed 
coercion. He called them both by the same name. 
“ Nursie dear.” He was affectionate to them 
both, and there was nothing they would not do 
for him. 

He lay now very straight out in his little bed, 
and his father’s nine letters were spread in the 
right order before him. He was far too weak 
to read them, but he could touch them now and 

291 


292 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

then. He wondered how they would be arranged 
when they were put into the box with him. He 
thought he would like letter No. 9 to be put into 
his hand. Then somehow his thoughts floated 
right away from the box and the letters and went 
up on wings into a misty white place where angels 
lived. He could only see the angels dimly : 
but now and then a face would peep out of a va- 
poury cloud and look at him very gently and with 
— oh ! such kind eyes, and smile at him ; and 
sometimes he was quite sure that he heard the rustle 
of wings. He imagined too, that at night the 
angels came closer and surrounded his bed, and 
he had a very great and persistent longing to lift 
his feeble arms and allow the angels to take him 
away. 

But strange and inexpressible as it may seem, 
something else chained him to that little bed. 

Once a day or so, not oftener, a big man en- 
tered the room on tip toe, and Jerry noticed, with 
his wonderful Major- Ramsey expression, the look 
on the man’s face. The man was Colonel — his 
Colonel. Somehow it seemed to Jerry that it 
was entirely because of Colonel that he could not 
get away into the soft white clouds and the lovely 
atmosphere where the angels were. It would be 
so easy to go, and so nice, and he’d have liked it 
so much. But Colonel kept him chained to his 
bed. 

What was that he saw, or thought he saw, the 
last time Colonel had bent over him ? Why, 


MY COLONEL 


293 

white hairs, quite white on the lofty forehead, 
and fresh wrinkles at the corners of the blue eyes, 
and a more haggard expression on the red face. 

“ My Colonel ! ” thought Jerry. 

Sir Arnold Brewster had left his little patient 
in the charge of a very able doctor. But he came 
himself many times to visit him. Three days 
after the operation he arrived, examined the boy 
carefully and then spoke to Colonel Digby. 

So far, so good,” he said : but I don’t 

like this continual sleeplessness. Nurse Andrews 
says that the boy has very little vitality — ^just 
lies as though he were more spirit than boy with 
his eyes wide open staring in front of him. By 
the way, wLat are all those letters doing on his 
bed ? ” 

“ They are his late father’s letters,” said the 
Colonel. “ They must stay there ; they can’t 
be removed.” 

“ I understand,” said the doctor ; but it’s a 
morbid sign.” He remained silent for a time. 
Then he said : “ I think, if I were you. I’d wire 
for the mother.” 

“ Why ? ” asked the Colonel, 

Safest to have her : a change may take place 
any moment — in fact, everything depends on the 
next twenty-four hours. If the child has natural 
sleep, the fear of inflammation setting in afresh 
will be over and then, practically, danger will be 
at an end. But if that queer wakefulness continues, 
and that slight rise of temperature gets any worse, 


294 COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

well ” the doctor gave an expressive shrug 

of his shoulders. 

“ Sir Arnold,” said Colonel Digby ; “ will 

you stay with us for the next twenty-four 
hours ? ” 

“ I have a case in town which I must attend 
to to-morrow morning, but I will come down 
immediately afterwards. I will be here by the 
evening. Have Mrs. Digby in the house by the 
evening.” 

The doctor went back again to Jerry’s room. 
He saw the nurses ; he said a cheery word to the 
boy. The boy himself hardly noticed him, for an 
angel out of those soft, misty clouds was beckoning 
very hard to Jerry boy at that moment and he 
was longing intensely to stretch out his arms and 
go away with the shining visitant folded in those 
strong white wings and lifted thereby into the 
Heaven country where his father would meet him. 

A few minutes after the surgeon’s departure. 
Colonel Digby rode himself into the nearest town 
and sent a telegram to his wife — 

“ Take the next train home. Boy dangerously 
iU.” 

Having sent the message, he returned to Court- 
lands. He wondered if his wife would come. 
Somehow, he expected nothing of her, and yet 
just then there were very queer upheavals going 
on in Colonel Digby’s nature. For he had read 


MY COLONEL 


295 

all the nine letters. He had begun, as Jerry 
wished him, with No. i, and had read on to 
the end. 

The letters to an outsider might have been 
simple enough, just the kind of beautiful thoughts 
of a great man to his absent boy. But Colonel 
Digby, who knew the boy, and knew the woman 
about whom Major Ramsey spoke, read a special 
meaning into those innocent little epistles. After 
he had read the last, he understood Jerry much 
better than he had ever done. Colonel Digby 
was in no sense of the word a religious man. He 
was therefore amazed to find that all the highest 
principles of religion had ordered Major Ramsey’s 
life. He understood now the simple faith of 
the child. The Major had taught him some of 
the grandest lessons of life and then, as it were, 
to enforce his teaching for evermore, he had 
gone away to Heaven, leaving the boy a mighty 
responsibility. 

‘‘ God help me ! ” murmured the Colonel. 

That poor fellow, Ramsey, was held by the glam- 
our of that woman’s personality and apparent charm 
to the end. Can I be kind to her as he was ? 
Can I ever pretend to love her as the child loves 
her, without the glamour ? God help me ! ” 

The Colonel did not fall on his knees, for 
that would be quite contrary to his habit, but he 
strolled away into the wood where he and Jerry 
had played those exciting games of make-believe, 
and there he reviewed the situation 


296 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

There is such a thing as passing sentence on 
your own life, and Colonel Digby passed a very 
stern sentence on his during the solemn hour which 
he spent in the summer woods. What took 
place was only known to himself and to his God, 
but the man’s conflict was very sore, and the toil 
and travail of years seemed to have passed over 
his head before he returned to the house. 

The operation was over, but a little life w’as 
hanging in the balance. The Colonel felt that 
ail his future also hung in the balance. 

“ God ! Don’t let the boy go ! ” he muttered 
fiercely, and the prayer he uttered was more like 
a command than a prayer. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

Everything Came Right 

TJERHAPS one secret of Mrs. Digby’s bright- 
ness and beauty was caused by the fact 
that she never troubled herself much about other 
people. As to Fitzgerald, her little son, being 
slightly indisposed, and the ridiculous Colonel 
taking fright and rushing off to see him at a 
moment’s notice, she really could not be bothered 
to give the matter a serious thought. Mabel, of 
course, was a silly young girl, and made a mountain 
out of a molehill. She, too, was infected with 
that queer, absurd desire to put Fitzgerald before 
any one else at Courtlands. A little cripple boy — 
to be taken so absolutely out of his place ! — it 
was bad for the child, caused people to laugh, 
and, in short, made her own position almost 
absurd. 

Besides, with all their pretended kindness these 
good folks, the Colonel and Mabel, were acting 
very cruelly by Fitzgerald. The Colonel would 
not allow a certain operation recommended by 
Sir Arnold Brewster to be performed, and Mabel 

297 


298 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

thoroughly agreed with and encouraged his 
views on the matter. The Colonel would not 
allow the operation, because, forsooth, there was 
a little danger, a slight risk, attached to it. How 
more than silly, thought Mrs. Digby. Was there 
not risk — more or less, that is — attached to every 
single thing in life ? and was that poor child to 
be a cripple all his days, a worry — almost a dis- 
grace — to his mother, because of the Colonel’s 
cowardice ? The thing was almost beyond bear- 
ing. Of course she, his mother, could exert her 
authority and insist on proper measures being 
taken to make the boy well — really well — the sort 
of young fellow she would be proud of by and 
by ; but somehow, she did not dare to, for the 
Colonel was so strong and so — ^yes, that was the 
word — cruel to her, and all because of the child. 
Was she to blame because Fitzgerald was lame and 
an object of pity ? 

Well, at any rate, she was glad that she had been 
left behind at Invera. She certainly did not want 
to leave the very enjoyable party, now gathered 
together at the castle, in order to return to that 
very dull house, Courtlands, to the society of an 
invalid child, and to subject herself to the Colonel’s 
infatuated talk with regard to him. Besides, the 
Colonel’s unexpected absence left her at liberty. 

She must quiet Mr. Lowndes. She had 
offended him of course, dreadfully, poor fellow, 
and no wonder. Had she not cut his dances ? 
had she not done every possible rude thing ? 


EVERYTHING CAME RIGHT 299 

Had she not sedulously avoided him when all the 
time she quite longed to be with him ? 

Mr. Lowndes had known her very well during 
a certain winter at Simla : they had been almost 
as great friends as she and Colonel Digby ; and 
once — ^yes, once — she had borrowed money from 
him. 

She had an uncomfortable memory now that 
the five hundred pounds he had lent her had 
never been returned. She was a little bit in his 
power, therefore, not much, but a little. She 
could make matters right now. 

So, without any sense of fear, Cecilia Digby 
met Maxim Lowndes in the fir wood and they 
had, in short, a good time together. She opened, 
as she expressed it, her heart to him, and gave 
him some particulars, with regard to her second 
marriage. She made him understand, or at 
least she thought she did, that her husband was a 
man with a terribly jealous character, that he 
positively neglected her, and devoted himself in 
the most ludicrous manner to a little cripple boy 
who was not, after all, in the least remarkable. 

“ Just a cripple boy,” she said, “ a dear, pretty 
little fellow, no doubt, but only a cripple. You 
can imagine, Maxim ” — she called Lowndes 
by his Christian name when her husband was not 
by — ‘‘ you can imagine, Maxim, what that is 
to me. The boy is eight years old, and only a 
cripple. He is likely to be nothing else all his 
life because of his step-father’s ridiculous deter- 


300 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

mination that an operation advocated by Sir 
Arnold Brewster, the greatest surgeon in England, 
may lead to some slight risk and therefore is not 
to be performed.” 

Lowndes could and did give dangerous sym- 
pathy, and Mrs. Digby’s anger against the Colonel 
and her pleasure in her old friend’s society became 
more intense. 

Sunday passed, and Monday went by. There 
was no letter from Colonel Digby. Mrs. Digby 
felt at once angry and glad. The child was, of 
course, quite well. The Colonel would write, 
only he must feel ashamed of himself for having 
rushed off in such a hurry. 

Mrs. Digby was now in high spirits. She was 
quite the prettiest woman of the party and in 
many ways the life of it. Men crowded round 
her just to look at her, or to laugh at her remarks. 
She might almost have been back in Simla again. 

Tuesday morning’s post brought her a brief 
note from Mabel, but Mabel had been desired 
by the Colonel on no account to mention the 
operation. In consequence, her letter was very 
short and constrained. 

“ Jerry isn’t well,” she wrote. 

“ Jerry ! ” muttered the mother. Even 
Mabel will insist on annoying me by calling the 
boy by the name I detest. Why will she not say 
Fitzgerald ! ” 

“ And dear Uncle Cyril is very tired,” continued 
Mabel, “ and very, very sad, and — anxious.” 


EVERYTHING CAME RIGHT 301 

The girl’s heart was hot with sympathy for 
Colonel Digby, and she had put these words into 
the letter almost recklessly ; but the Colonel’s 
wife was not in the least alarmed. 

“ I should think the Colonel is sad ! ” she 
muttered, “ he must find it terribly dull at 
Courtlands. How absurd of him to have rushed 
off the way he did just because the boy had a 
finger ache ! Well, at least, I am having a good 
time. Maxim’s society is quite agreeable. I 
suppose it must come to an end when the Colonel 
and I meet again. But I shall enjoy it as long 
as I can.” 

Wednesday morning brought no letter of any 
sort ; in fact, the whole of Wednesday passed 
without news. It was towards evening on 
Thursday that a telegram was put into Mrs. 
Digby’s hands. The party at Invera were having 
tea in the grounds at the moment. There were 
a good many people present. Maxim Lowndes 
had flung himself on the grass by Mrs. Digby’s side. 

When the tall footman approached with the 
telegram on a little salver, Mrs. Digby received it 
carelessly. 

“ The messenger is waiting. Madam,” said the 
man, “ in case you should wish to send an answer.” 

“ There isn’t an answer,” she replied. 

The servant went away. With the telegram 
lying on her lap Mrs. Digby turned and faced 
Mr. Lowndes. 

“ I know quite well what is in this,” she said, 


302 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

tapping the yellow envelope as she spoke. It’s 
from my odious dressmaker in London. Now if 
that pink chiffon dress doesn’t arrive in time for 
the ball to-morrow night, I shall be unbearably 
cross.” 

As she uttered the words, she put on her 
sweetest smile and her dark blue eyes looked full 
into those of Maxim Lowndes. 

‘‘ You never could be cross, and you know 
that,” was his answer. Then, not being quite 
aware himself why he spoke, he said ‘‘ But you 
might open the telegram.” 

“ It is only from Angela Pragnall,” replied 
Mrs. Digby. 

“ Well, open it and see what she says.” 

Cecilia Digby toyed with the little envelope. 

The fact is, I don’t want to be made disagree- 
able just at present — for I am cross sometimes — 
and the thought of not getting that dress ” 

Lowndes looked boldly into her eyes. 

“ Open the telegram,” he repeated 

She tossed the envelope into his lap. 

“ How insistent you are ! ” she said. You 
might almost be the Colonel. Open it for me, 
Maxim. Tell me what the horrid creature has 
said. It’s just like her to refuse to send my dress 
in time.” 

Other people observed when Lowndes opened 
Mrs. Digby’s telegram. He tore it open with 
his thin, nervous fingers, was just about to toss 
a jest to her, but his eyes lighting on the words, 


EVERYTHING CAME RIGHT 303 

the whole expression of his face changed. The 
eager, covetous look went out of it. It became 
almost human. 

“ Well ? ” said Mrs. Digby. “ What is the 
news ? Oh, please, Mr. Parker, do get me 
another cup of tea.’’ She held out her empty 
cup to a young guardsman who stood near. 
“ Well ? ” she repeated, as he went off with it 
to the tea maker, “ what does Pragnall say ? ” 

“ The telegram is not from Pragnall.” 

“ Then who is it from ? Give it to me ! ” 
She snatched it from his hand. 

“ Take the next train home. Boy dangerously 
ill. Digby.” 

What was the matter ? All of a sudden 
Mrs. Digby felt cold. There was a finality 
about this message which made anything but the 
most decided action impossible. Mrs. Digby 
knew the Colonel. He would not have wired 
as he had done were the case not urgent. The 
boy was dangerously ill — dangerously ill ; and 
she was to go to him at once. Never before, 
never in the whole course of her flippant, frivolous, 
worthless life had Mrs. Digby felt anything like 
the swift, sharp sword-like sensation which went 
through her being then. Had she a heart ? and 
was it — ^was it suddenly found ? Was Jerry 
boy right ? 

She struggled to her feet. Her blue eyes were 
a little wild. There was a queer confusion in 


304 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

her movements. She turned almost blindly 
towards old Lord Invera. 

“ I have bad news from home,” she said, ‘‘ and 
I must leave immediately.” 

There was a confusion of voices round her, but 
she scarcely heard them, and remembered nothing 
at all about them afterwards. She found herself 
moving towards the house — skimming towards 
it in that graceful way which Jerry had always 
admired so much. People followed her, but she 
was unaware of the fact. Her head was strangely 
giddy, and there was a throbbing sensation at the 
back of her eyes. She had as absolutely for- 
gotten Maxim Lowndes as though he did not 
exist. She had forgotten everything at the 
moment but the words of her husband’s telegram 
— his command : “ Take the next train home,” 
and the brief sentence : “ Boy dangerously ill.” 

Zaidee was found ; and Zaidee packed her 
mistress’ things. Zaidee was very cross. She 
was having a glorious time at Invera. She tried 
to express some of her crossness, but Mrs. Digby 
did not even hear her. She herself was restlessly 
putting her many articles of finery together. She 
was in a frantic hurry to be off, to be on the 
move, and that queer sensation went on and on 
and on, aching and aching within her. 

In an hour after the receipt of the telegram, 
lady and maid left Castle Invera. As the day 
happened to be a weekday, trains were more 
frequent than they had been on the previous 


EVERYTHING CAME RIGHT 305 

Sunday when the Colonel returned to Court- 
lands. Zaidee earnestly hoped that her mistress 
would not inflict the discomfort upon them 
both of spending the night travelling. She 
trusted that Mrs. Digby would stay in Edinburgh 
and go on by the express the next day. But Mrs. 
Digby declared, in those sharp accents which she 
could use at will and which were so very decided 
when she wanted to express her own deter- 
mination, that she was going straight through. 

Zaidee did not like it. In the course of the 
journey she ventured to hint that the Colonel 
had exaggerated. 

“ No,” was Mrs. Digby’s reply. 

Then Zaidee perceived that something very 
unusual must have occurred. 

Mistress and maid arrived at Courtlands early 
on the following morning. The Colonel met his 
wife on the terrace. 

Good heavens ! ” she cried, when she saw 
his face. Then she flung her hands to her sides 
and remained quite passive. 

Zaidee crept indoors. She was frightened. 
Mrs. Digby herself felt horribly frightened. 

“ I have been thinking of it — of what it might 
mean— all night,” she said, after a pause. 
“ Your telegram was cruel ; it frightened me 
awfully. It isn’t— Cyril— it isn’t true ? ” 

He took her hand and led her into the house. 

“ There’s just the shadow of a hope still left,” 
was his answer, “ and you, Cecilia, are the onlj 

23 


3o6 the COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

one in all the world to bring that hope to real- 
ization.” 

“ Tell me ! ” she said. She was trembling all 
over. Her nerveless fingers tried to untie her 
travelling cloak. They fumbled at the broad 
grey ribbons. Colonel Digby untied them and 
removed the cloak from her shoulders. 

‘‘ I will,” he said. ‘‘ Come this way.” He 
led her into his study. “ Matters are like this,” 
he began immediately. “ Your words went 
home, Cecilia. You spoke to the boy a little 
time ago and your words went home. Some- 
how, they generally do ; they generally find their 
mark. But on this occasion the target towards 
wnich they were aimed was the very sensitive 
heart of a little child. You explained to the 
boy — to your own boy — exactly what his posi- 
tion would be in your eyes if he lived to grow up 
a cripple. He made up his mind that at any 
personal risk he would not so grow up — and ” 

“ Go on,” she said. 

“ Brewster performed the operation on Mon- 
day. The child’s life hangs in the balance. If 
he could sleep, there might just be a chance.” 

“ May I go to him f ” said Mrs. Digby then ; 
and her voice was so low and so broken in tone 
that her husband hardly recognized it. “ May 
I go to him ? ” she said, quite humbly ; ‘‘ for he 
is my boy.” 

I will take you to him,” said the Colonel. 
“ But will you take some food first ? ” 


EVERYTHING CAME RIGHT 307 

“ I ” — she gave a queer laugh — No,’’ she 
said. 

So the lady of Jerry boy’s dreams — the 
beautiful lady went, just as she was, into the 
little lad’s bedroom. Jerry boy was lying very 
much as he had lain since the operation had been 
performed. His head was slightly raised, and 
the nine letters, in two rows lay beside him on the 
bed. His hands were outside the counterpane, 
and he wore his pretty blue pyjamas. He was 
looking intently across the room with his eyes 
slightly raised and an ecstatic expression on his 
face, when the dream lady — the dream mother 
of his heart — entered the room. A nurse said, 
‘‘ Hush ! ” but Mrs. Digby paid no heed. 

Quite suddenly, or so it seemed to her then, 
she understood the boy. Quite suddenly, for 
the first time in all her life, she claimed him. He 
was hers : even the Colonel had no right to him, 
compared to her right. She knelt by him. She 
laid her hand on his little hand. 

‘‘ I have come,” she said. 

He heard her voice : he turned to look at her. 

‘‘ Why — mother ! ” said Jerry. 

‘‘ I have come to stay with you,” she repeated. 
A very strange expression visited his eyes. It 
was not at first exactly a smile, it was more like a 
ray of light. It filled his big eyes first of all, and 
then illuminated his little face and then hovered 
round his lips. After a time, he said in a low, 
soft, absolutely contented tone — 


308 THE COLONEL’S CONQUEST 

“ I am cripple hoy no longer. Can you — 
will you — mother — kiss — ^your own boy ? ” 

“ Stay with me,” was her answer to this ; and 
then her lips met his lips in a long, close kiss, the 
first real kiss his mother had ever given him. 
# » * * • 

Thus it came to pass that Jerry boy lived, and 
Jerry boy himself was quite sure, and the Colonel 
was nearly sure, that the fact of his living was 
after all his mother’s doing. In the crucial 
moment she, his mother, had won a victory over 
the angels, so that the angels of Heaven went 
back to their own place, and left the boy with 
the Colonel and his mot.^er. 

“ Didn’t I know that my mother had a heart, 
and a beautiful one, deep down somewhere ? ” 
thought Jerry. 

He was two years older now and no longer 
lame. As the thought came to him, he and the 
Colonel were walking side by side in the rose 
garden at Courtlands. Jerry was ten years old, 
and tall and slim for his age. But the Major- 
Ramsey look was still in his eyes, and he could 
still think as only those think who have suffered. 

‘‘ We are both taking care of mother now, 
aren’t we. Colonel ? ” he said on this occasion. 

“ Jove ! ” said the Colonel ; “ yes, both of 
us.” 

The Colonel looked much as usual, only the 
white hairs had become more numerous on his 
head. 


EVERYTHING CAME RIGHT 309 

“ Both of us — Jove — yes ! ” he repeated. 

“ We have found her heart, haven’t we, 
Colonel ? ” said Jerry boy. 

‘‘ It’s all right, that part,” said the Colonel. 

Jerry was contented with this answer. In a 
sense, his mother was still his dream mother as 
she had been on that day when she came into his 
room and sent — ^just by her presence and her 
words — the angels back to Heaven. He could not 
guess, perhaps he would never guess that Mrs. 
Digby was neither a great nor a specially good 
woman. She was proud of Jerry, proud of his 
beauty and proud of his manliness. 

As to the Colonel, he asked for no better gift 
in life than Jerry boy. 

The nine letters remained safely in the wooden 
box. The Major was quite happy in the Heaven 
country, and Jerry boy performed his mission on 
earth. 

So everything came right* 


The End 







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